#ovw fic

[kiwi-on-ice]

Fluffy ashe head-cannons👁️👁️(fem reader por favor)

First date headcannons with Ashe, Kiriko, Sombra and Mercy with fem!reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Just fluff really, Sombra's is a little suggestive but nothing overt. prefer boys? check here.

Notes: was originally just going to just do Ashe first date headcannons but it got me thinking about some of the other girls.

Ashe:

She's most likely the one who's asked you out. After realising that you care about her more than just physically, she'd want to prove to you how dedicated she can be. While she's very emotionally closed off, she really wants to push herself to treat you how she knows a pretty girl like you should be treated.

Don't be surprised if you find sent to your door a surprisingly large stack of cash with a note attached telling you to buy yourself something nice to wear for the date.

She's been around wealth all her life, with most of the romance she'd been told about being flashy spending. So she'll take you to a fancy high end restaurant for dinner.

She'd be a 'gentleman', pulling your chair out for you, holding doors for you, leading you with a hand on the small of your back gently.

Flirting with you comes quite easily to her, but it hides something deeper. How she's caught off guard by how much her chest feels fuzzy when you laugh at something she says, or how she almost feels lightheaded when you brush against her as you two walk. Despite how confident she appears, she's worrying about coming off as too forward physically with something as simple as holding your hand.

If you hold hers first, she'll feel the tension leave her shoulders.

Don't bother asking to split the bill, she won't let you. She's paying.

She'll take you home, giving you a kiss on the cheek at the door. She's happy to leave it there, but her self restraint disappears if you ask if she wants to come inside.

Pulling your chair out, she gives you a smile as you sit down before walking around and taking a seat herself. Her red eyes look you up and down appreciatively, the smooth rhythm of the piano player in the room setting quite the romantic atmosphere.

"Well well, don't you look like the belle of the ball, huh?" she says smoothly, reveling in your slightly flustered reaction as you glance down to look at the menu.

"Anythin' you want sugar, it's all on me." she affirms, and smirks a little when you try and protest. "I insist."

Kiriko:

Get ready for a FUN date

She's pretty confident, so don't be surprised if she's the one who asked you out with a charming smile.

Wants a date with activities, so she'll invite you to an arcade with a bowling alley. Pretty cheesy, sure, but she's excited so that's what matters.

She's absolutely gonna beat your ass at bowling, it isn't even fair. She's also quite competitive, so she'll definitely playfully tease you about losing. Sticking her tongue out at you, whooping and cheering etc.

The arcade though...that's a different story. She's surprisingly not the best at video games, which means you have the opportunity to one up her. Still, she's just as giggly even when she's losing.

She'll ask you loads of questions, wanting to find out as much about you as possible, especially in the downtime between games.

Her way of flirting while on the date is to make up silly games for you two to play. Winner of the next arcade machine has to give the other a kiss on the cheek. Suddenly, her performance gets suspiciously worse.

Afterwards, she doesn't really want the night to end. She might offer the idea of going for drinks, or perhaps going back to her place. She makes it clear she doesn't expect anything, she'll even sleep on the sofa if you want to turn the night into a sleepover!

Strike!

Comes the loud speaker as Kiriko scores another perfect ten in bowling. She jumps up and down and laughs, before turning to you with a wink.

"Think you can still beat me?" she teases, causing you to scoff playfully.

"You bet."

"Try it babe." she challenges, getting closer to you. She leans in, and your breath catches, before she reaches behind you and grabs a bowling ball. Handing it to you with a smirk, she can't wait to keep winning against you (and make you blush more in the process).

Sombra:

Olivia is pretty laid back, so she'll ask you out quite casually; she might even do it over text, with a few winky face emojis.

Most likely to suggest getting drinks, going to some sort of themed bar. If you don't drink, she'll make sure to look into bars that have good mocktail options for you.

Will offer to pick you up and take you, and when you go outside she'll be waiting on her motorcycle with a grin.

Was it all an excuse so she can feel your hands around her waist clinging on to her as she speeds through the city? Maybe.

While there, she's on full analyze mode. She tests your reactions to things she says/does/calls you, collecting all the data on what you seem to like and not like. But she's so smooth and easy going, you won't even realise what she's doing.

She'll ask you lots of questions about yourself, smiling and seeming interested as you speak. The truth is, she knows pretty much everything about you from hacking your various devices, but she still loves hearing it all from your lips.

Like Ashe, she'll insist on paying for your drinks. It's not like she can't afford it after all.

She's pretty touchy, but not in a pervy way. When she compliments you, she'll play with a strand of your hair or trace small circles on the back of your hand.

She'll also hack your music apps and see the type of music you like, so she can hack the speaker in the bar and occasionally play a song she knows you like.

Afterwards, she'll smoothly suggest going back to hers. She won't be offended if you say no, but she can't deny the rush it gives her if you say yes.

"That's fascinating conejita." Sombra says, having listened to you speak about your friends and family. Barely repressing a smirk, she watches your facial expression as you react to her nickname. So you like her calling you things in Spanish...that information is useful.

"So what else, any pets?" she asks, and as you speak she gently brushes her foot against your ankle. You stumble over your words a little as she smiles innocently. Oh she's going to have fun with you...

Mercy:

She's quite a traditional woman, so most likely she'll take you for dinner.

It might be late though, having to stay after hours at work causing her to push back the date and time. She feels awful, no matter how much you reassure her that you understand.

When she arrives at your home, she'll have a bouquet of red roses in her hands as an apology.

She's sweet the whole time, preferring to ask you questions rather than the other way round. She'd rather not talk about work, wanting to switch off and relax.

Definitely the type to order a nice bottle of wine for you both.

Also definitely the type to suggest you both share a dessert, she thinks it's very cute and intimate. Might even playfully offer a spoonful for you to bite.

Will gently hold your hand across the table, but apart from that she isn't particularly touchy that early on.

Absolutely will offer to pay, but also won't mind if you insist on splitting the bill.

Afterwards, she'll take you home but most likely won't come inside. But she will give you a kiss on the cheek that you swear you can feel linger for hours.

As the plates are taken away, Angela smiles softly before glancing at the dessert menu.

"Do you have a sweet tooth darling?" she asks, as you both look at the selection of delicacies. Her eyes trace over the choices, before another smile tugs at her features.

"How about we share one?" she offers, and the image that pops in your head of her feeding you dessert makes your head nod before your brain could even hope to catch up.

[m-v3nus]

Hanzo is such an interesting character to headcannon for.

...

I like to imagine that while he doesn't hate his father he doesn't have the most solid relationship with him, especially after he passed so much things were left in the air, arguments never resolved, sorries never given and in some weird way he both resents him yet begs for his presence one last time. This is even more amplified because of his mother.

Id feel like hanzo would adore his mother and even though she had very enabling behaviors towards her husband, because of how harshly his father treated him (for being the eldest) , he still sees her as this holier than thou martyr. A woman whose done no wrong in her short life time which is infactually untrue because not only was she human but a heavily flawed one.

And I'd imagine that'd cause a heavy rift with genji since while he is the baby of the family he was still unbiased enough to see that both their mother and father were messed up and neglectful in their own ways.

Hanzo would def have a very complex relationship with his masculinity. Often being discouraged from being emotional or soft because of his dad grooming him to become a leader. His father would have criticized his mistakes by comparing him to his mother. "Like mother like son" would have been hanzos dad favorite insult. This causing him to see the feminine and maternal as both something he yearns to experience without judgement yet spits on or looks down on anyone (especially other men) who are comfortable with it.

Which is also another reason why hanzo envied genji during his late teens and early 20s. How dare he not be regulated? How dare his father not criticize every mistake? How dare he be free and enjoy the feminine without judgment...

But in genjis eyes he's the forgotten child who didn't get invested in because from the start he was seen as lesser, weaker, younger.

And coming back to the fear of feminine for hanzo hed also would have a fear of the masculine. Every time there's a man who exudes more stone butch masculinity than him he feels so intimidated on the inside. There's an automatic reaction to prove himself to be the best in the room.

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: Jamieson Fawkes doesn't have a whole lot going on. He decides to play a video game. Maybe he'll make a friend. Or something like that.

Author: ArmsShanks

[lokiiva]

Deleted fic

Hello I’m writing this as a last resort. I went back to reread a Yeehan fic and found out that it has been deleted. I don’t remember the author nor the fic’s name, but if anyone does please help. The fic is about how hanzo has to start a new form of therapy with Angela for him to start attending mission. They would view a memory from Hanzo’s childhood and talk about it. It dives deep into his back story and why he did what he did and it was super sad. He grows closer to Cassidy and mend his relationship with himself and Genji. I also remember their mom reappearing after years of being on the run.

[nerdstreak]

AUUUUGH INVASION IS SO NICE IM SOAKING UP THE LORE AND READY FOR MORE

[kiddphel]

Gojo are you what they call an epic gamer. The people (us) need to know!!!

"Well, not to brag but I'm good at everything I try. I know, I know, I'm awesome. But I like to think about the future generations. I don't want to show them up with my skills, so I try not to play online games for the sake of everyone else of course. However, Ferris does convince me from time to time to join him when he plays games. I do like them, but it's... It's more fun with him."

[vyrantium]

life got wild and i haven't made much progress on my aloth/watcher fic BUT i'm still madly in love w him......

[utopiandankovsky]

can tell I'm regressing bc I'm wanting to write fan fic again

[wow-an-unfunny-joke]

I don’t know shit about overwatch. I am not in the over watch fandom I’m in the Junkrat fandom. Which is to say that I have an idea and k really want to write it!!! But I don’t know how. I want to write about Junkrat and Roadhog getting out of junkertown and the outskirts, getting safe and like getting better. Healthy diets, less explodey, no more radiation.

Do you really think Junkrat treats his wounds properly? Do you really think they have the stuff to treat them?

I would love to write it, but I don’t know exactly how it would happen? Why would the two even leave? Why would they ever agree to anything like that? I mean I feel like it would have something to do with Overwatch but idk, I don’t know anything about this fandom.

[ovomoy]

Chapter 10 is here! This one focuses on what some of the original characters (the story's villains) are up to. Idk, I don’t write about my fics here, but hope you give it a shot!✨ 

[d1s1ntegrated]

shiggy with a s/o who’s equally as much of a loser as him :3 like they probably met in a discord vc (he’s the mod) or a league of legends match and he probably hates them at first and then gets a lil crush on them when they helped him mid-game or smth!!

thank u <3

hi love! i am working on a full-length fic where this is literally the entire plot omgomgomg, i'll post a little snippet here!

its still a wip so it wont be perfect but its first person perspective in this part, and i'm thinking of going back and forth between povs to show shig and readers sides equally.

also, reader is fem/afab, same age as shig, and alt. she has a quirk, too (not a healing one either).

this one does include quirks also! but it doesn't get into them for a bit, just a few convos.

some tags for the work entirely: slow burn, enemies to lovers, dabi x reader, shiggy x reader, reader is Not mentally stable, but no one else is either, the server is all the LOV and some others, incel behavior, boys being gross

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

i slide my headset off as we log off for the night and head to my bed, yawning as i climb in. i turn my lamp off and from my bedside table, i hear the infamous chime of discord as my screen lights the room. i groan and roll over, checking the message.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪thx 4 playing tn, u weren't half bad

↪btw sorry for threatening to ban u for posting memes in general

i read the messages slowly and type out my response.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪gg dude, and np.

↪promise i wont spam ur precious server w memes again

↪gn bro

i turn my phone back off and close my eyes, only to hear my phone go off again. i sigh, contemplating on ignoring it, but i lazily grab it anyways.

𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱2𝔡𝔲𝔰𝔱

↪would u ever wanna vid call :)

↪u can say no. its ok

i frown at the message for a minute. this is the same guy who, about an hour ago, was screaming at me for not being fast enough in game, calling me a fucking pleb.

but other than that...he was funny. and nice to talk to.

𝖙𝖊𝖒𝖕𝖊𝖘𝖙

↪for sure, we can tmr.

i type out a half-assed response but feel a ping of excitement inside of me. i fall asleep with my phone on my chest, waiting for a reply.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

i wake up around 1pm, the daylight searing through my curtains. i feverishly reach for my phone, only to find it flung off the bed. i drape myself off the side to reach it, eager to read any messages.

i flit through the random notifications, only to find disappointment. i open up discord, wondering if maybe i just fell asleep with my phone on, but there's no response from him. i see him active and type out a message, ultimately deleting it. if he wants to respond, he will.

i haul myself out of bed and head to the shower, leaving my phone behind, slightly jaded knowing i was left on read. i let the warm water wash over me, soaking up the few minutes of peace before i exit and get dressed. i continue ignoring my phone until i hear a ping. i rush over to it, feeling slightly embarrassed that i'm this concerned already. i open discord again, expecting a message from him, but it's not there. instead, a string of messages from someone else sits unopened. my brows furrow and i open the dm confused.

𝙗𝙡𝙪𝙚𝙛𝙡𝙖𝙢𝙚

↪yo

↪u played ovw w us last night right

↪u should play again tn w me, pretty.

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

again this is just a snippet >_< but i hope it tickles some anticipation ahhhhhhhhh. ik there isnt a lot sorry ;-;

[jensensfanfic]

NOT JUST THE FLU

pairing: justin foley x gn!reader (romantic) + clay jensen x twin!reader (familial/platonic ofc)

warnings: cursing, vomiting, justin in recovery - mentions of specific drugs, hints of justin's trauma from being on the streets, coughing, lmk if i should add anything else! (i am not an expert on addiction/recovery + symptoms so please don't come @ me)

a/n: here's another fic from my wattpad days. in the original version of this fic, i wrote the reader to be extremely pissed off and annoyed, but in this version they're a lot more understanding and soft

13 REASONS WHY MASTERLIST

—☆—

"Anyone home!? Hello?"

As you close the front door, you kick off your boots, shoving them under the radiator to dry. With dripping hair and soaked clothes, you wander into the kitchen, leaving a trail of wet patches on the carpet in your path. You blow our a long, tired breath and head to the fridge for a bottle of water.

You call out again. "Hello!? Mum? Dad? Clay?" You pause for a few seconds, gulping down half of your drink." No? Just me, then. Sweet."

Figuring that you are home alone, you climb the stairs to the bathroom. You take the small pile of fresh pajamas you'd left before school and change into them. As you're drying your dry, you hear some clattering coming from Clay's room, immediately followed by a curse and then what sounds like a window being opened.

"Clay? You're here?" You knock on your brother's bedroom door. "Why didn't you answer me before?"

When you don't get a response, but continue to hear a string of curse words, you turn the handle and go in anyway. Your eyes widen when you see your friend, Tony. Well, just the back of him at least, as he sits on the window and then jumps down.

"The hell..." You charge forward, watching as he picks himself up from where he'd landed. "Tony, what the fuck?!"

Tony stands, brushes dirt from his jeans, and then looks back up. "Clay said you were studying with Jess."

You're at a loss for words as you frown.

"He said you'd be out late."

"What? I– we got done early. But that doesn't answer my question. What the fuck? Why were you in Clay's room alone?"

"Uh– not alone..." You turn around at his words and your eyes widen further upon seeing Justin Foley laying on your brother's couch, snoring.

How had you completely missed him lying there?

"Tony! Seriously, what the hell is going on?"

"Clay will explain. I have to go." With that, Tony gets into his car and drives away promptly, leaving you confused.

You shake your head in disbelief, then slide the window shut and turn to Justin. You walk over and give him a small shove.

"Justin? Hey..."

Justin wakes instantly, looking around the room, probably for Clay, but when he only sees you, he sits up and looks worried. "Um..."

"Can you please explain to me why the fuck you are in my house, drooling all ovwe my brother's couch?"

Justin opens him mouth to speak, but right at that moment, Clay arrives in the doorway to his room. "Shit! Crap. Uh– I can explain all of this."

"What on earth, Clay? Did you, like... smuggle him in here. Do mom and dad know?"

"They don't, and... kind of. I mean, yes. Yes, I did."

"And Tony was here because?"

"Tony was watching him while I was out."

Justin coughs. "Ugh, I told you, I don't need a babysitter."

You and Clay respond simultaneously. "Shut up."

You shake your head, confused. "Why would Tony need to babysit him?"

Clay looks down at Justin, who looks up at you before opening his mouth to speak. "I– uh– it's–"

"He's sick." Clay interrupts him. "He has the flu. Yeah. I brought him back to help Jessica with the trial and everything... but he's sick, so he's been staying here."

"Why does he need to be here just because he's sick?" You drop your shoulders, mouth hanging open slightly. You sit down on Clay's bed. "How long has he been here?"

Clay gulps before answering. "A few days."

"For real? I mean, what the hell, Clay? You've had Justin Foley in your room for a few days, and you didn't tell me? Are you completely crazy, or am I a total dumbass for not even noticing?"

Clay sighs. "Look, I'm sorry. But we can't risk him being seen."

You rest your head on your hand. "This is crazy."

"I know, okay? Just please... don't tell mom and dad."

Clay gives you his classic, wide-eyed, pleading face. The one he makes when he wants a favour from you, or if he's done something wrong and needs you to cover for him. He thinks it works, but, honestly, it never has.

However, thinking about it, you decide you would rather not face your parents after they find out this... secret. You can imagine their faces and the questions and the yelling they would do, directed at you and Clay. Since now, you have been involved.

"Yeah. Okay, fine." You chuckle. "Can you imagine what they'd say?"

Clay smiles and nods, and then sits down on the end of his bed next to you. "I'm really sorry that I didn't tell you right away."

"Forget it. Does he have medication?"

Justin shakes a small bottle of pills and points to the bottles of meds and water on the table.

"Great."

You feel before you see Clay tense a little, and you look st him with a quirked brow. "What now?"

"You are going to absolutely hate me for this, and I won't blame you if you do, but Tony, um... he can't skip school again tomorrow. Do you think you could– well, you know."

"You want me to watch him? You're serious?"

"Please. Just this once. I'll make sure you don't have to again. I'll figure something else out."

You huff. "Fine. I have first two periods free, so only until then."

"Thank you." Clay nudges your shoulder and smiles. "You're the best twin a brother could ask for."

"I know." You smile back at your brother, and then both of your eyes widen at each other when you hear Justin hiccup and then cough.

"Oh, God!" You try to grab the waste bin quickly, but Justin has vomited all the carpet before you can reach him.

—☆—

You sigh loudly when your phone rings again. "Jesus Christ!"

Justin tries to look over your shoulder. "What is it?"

"Clay... again."

You type a message back to your brother and then slide your phone onto the desk without looking. "He's demanding an update. Like, I'm sorry I forgot, I was sort of in the middle of cleaning up snotty tissues and your favourite vomit-covered shoes, bro."

Justin laughs. "Yeah, oops on that one, he's gonna be pissed."

"Most definitely."

"You have to admit, taking care of me isn't that bad?" Justin smirks.

"What makes you think that? It's gross."

"C'mon, Jensen." Justin smirks, his voice cocky as he explaisn. "Jeff told me."

"Told you what?" You ask, hoping Jeff Atkins really didn't let slip your secret."

"He told me what you said. That you thought I was 'hot', and I quote, 'as fuck'."

Ugh, Jeff.

You figure there isn't much point in denying it. You did find Justin attractive, and you weren't ashamed to think that. However, you do spin a tiny fib and pretend like your little crush on Justin is old news.

"Well... that was after that one night when you were fighting with Zach outside Hannah's party. You were having the time of your life, and so was I while checking you out."

"Oh, really?" Justin beams, and the smile looks strange against his sickly, exhausted looking face.

"How can you be this cocky and... flirty while simultaneously looking like you currently do."

Justin's mouth falls open. "What do you mean?"

"I mean... you really, really look the part of a sick person right now."

"Thanks?" He says, then makes you jump when he blurts out, "Shit, I'm fucking freezing!"

"I gave you three blankets!"

Justin shrugs. "I'm still cold."

"It's probably your fever." You sigh. "Be right back."

You quickly go to your own room and take the duvet from your bed.

"Here." Back in Clay's room, you throw the duvet over Justin, who takes it gratefully and pulls it around himself.

He frowns, surprised by the kind gesture, given that most of your shared time together, you'd been grumpy and impatient to leave.

"Thank you. But won't you need this yourself?"

"You want me to take it back?"

"No." He holds up his hand in defence. "I'm good, I'm good."

It's silent for a little while, so when Justin coughs again, it makes you look over at him. For the first time since you'd discovered him in your home last night, you actually take in his face properly.

You notice his eyes first. They're bloodshot, tired-looking, with little brusie-like circles underneath. His face isn't just pale; it's almost grey, and upon squinting at his hands for a few moments, you realise they are shaking.

Looking down at his medication, you see that not all of them are even meant to be taken for a 'flu'.

You stand up, frowning, and Justin follows your movements as you spot a fold tucked under Clay's desk, and lean down to pick it up. Before you can read it, Justin coughs, and you're certain it's fake; done in order to distract you.

"What am I going to find in here, Justin?" You plop back down onto the bed with the folder, and place it on your lap. "What isn't Clay telling me?"

Justin pulls the blankets tighter around himself. "Nothing, I–"

"You look awful. Like, worse than the flu awful. You're all lying to me, aren't you? You, Clay, and Tony." You roll your eyes when Justin doesn't respond. "Look, just tell me. Please. I promise you, whatever it is, I'll still keep my mouth shut. I just want to know what I'm really dealing with here."

You're about to push further when your phone rings again. You groan loudly. Answering it, you ignore Clay's questions and mutter, "Call me back in 20."

You hang up and throw your phone to the side. "So?"

Justin closes his eyes. "Just open that dumbass folder Clay made."

You do as he says, eyes widening when you read the first line on the first page inside. You read it aloud, "'Detoxing From Heroin.' What and what not– Justin, what–" You blow out a breath, taking a minute to let your anger fade, the feeling being replaced by concern and confusion. "What happened to you? After you left..."

Something in Justin's eyes shift. He suddenly seems scared, shy, maybe even a little ashamed. "I–" His voice cracks. "When I left–"

"Don't answer that." You quickly move to kneel beside him, leaning up on the couch and laying a hand over one of his. "Okay? You don't have to."

"Hm. Thanks." He relaxes and turns his hand, so that he can interlace his fingers with yours. When you don't pull away, and instead, squeeze his hand back, he smirks.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" You ask, amazed by how quickly he seems to be able to change his entire mood.

"Because I knew it."

"Ugh. What?"

"You still like me, don't you?"

"Shut up, Foley." You pick up the folder again, opening it up to the page on medication. "Okay, what did you take before I got here?"

Justin doesn't answer right away, he just watches you flipping through the folder and mutters to himself. "Yeah, you still like me."

—☆—

Later that day, when Tony arrives to switch with you, Clay comes home too. You give them both an ear-bashing before leaving the house and heading back to school.

—☆—

A few days pass, and when you're walking to the shower one night, you hear Tony, ranting to Justin about how he needs to be somewhere else. You don't quite hear the what's and where's, or who's, but before you can even think about it, you push open the door.

"Go, Tony. If you need to. I've got it tonight."

"You sure?"

"Yeah, I'm free, so go ahead."

"Okay." He pats you on the shoulder as he leaves the room. "Thank you."

You go and sit next to Justin on the floor, where's he got his knees tucked up against his chest, and his arms wrapped around them, shivering. "You're back. Thought you told Clay that you weren't gonna help after the other night."

"Yeah, well, I lied, I guess."

He smiles sweetly, and then you sigh to yourself for showing how much you really care for Justin, when you squeeze his knee. He looks up, confused, and then you turn your hand, palm up and nod.

Justin takes your hand once again, and then Justin lays his head on your shoulder. You lay your own against his.

"This is nice." He whispers.

"Yeah... until you throw up again."

Justin snort-laughs; and what you don't see is that at that moment, Clay arrives home. He looks in on you both, surprise making him leave you alone as he walks back downstairs, mumbling to himself.

Taglist: @mockerycrow @wqxianwriting

[haveyoureadthisfanfic]

Summary: When a mission to take out a Talon stronghold goes wrong, Soldier 76 finds himself at the mercy of the Angel of Death.

Author: @w4nderingstarfanfics

[ovwechoes]

Hi! I was wondering if you're willing to, write a drabble or fic or whatever you wish of Mauga with a reader who gets his name tattooed on them somewhere so that way 'He's always with them?"

If you're closed or anything feel free to ignore this request!!

Tattoo Drabble: Mauga x Reader (GN/SFW) Hiya! I'm happy to write this for you, it's an interesting idea and, as someone with multiple ones, I like thinking about how ovw characters would react to em - thank you for the ask and it's under the cut, enjoy c: Word count: 2805

Your thigh was covered for most of the day by your loose fitting joggers, concealing something you knew would shock the Samoan that was walking side by side to you. You had asked to meet somewhere private, because you had something to show him, with Maugaloa more than willing to oblige. It was something you were thankful for, but couldn't shake the anxiety of finding out what his response would be.

You had been with him for a while, and could gauge how his mood was based solely on his eyebrows and how furrowed they were in the moment. It would be an understatement to say you two were close, not just as partners but as people. You wanted something to show how much you value the man beside you, as a token of your gratitude for his undying love and support. With Maugaloa, though, he can be unpredictable, so how would he react when you finally showed him what was under the cling film concealing your thigh? How would he react to see flesh he consistently kissed, praised, and adorned on in private marked with something near and dear to him? You didn't know, and it pained you to be left in limbo like this.

And yet, here you were, almost at the agreed spot with Maugaloa. It was a corner of Talon HQ training grounds, somewhere he had told you time and time again that Sombra's cameras didn't reach this far, it was his own personal blind spot for the two of you. The closer you got to your designated space, the more your heart pounded in your chest. Your heartbeat was echoing throughout your skeleton, as though it was music alongside his own mechanical ones humming and whirring within his chest.

Maugaloa's voice was aired out by your anxiety - his idle chats about how training's going, how Siebren wouldn't stop talking to him about the fabric of the universe being soft like silk, and how Gabriel's testing his patience with each and every jab at his ego. You usually stayed attentive, stayed observant, and stayed in the moment with your partner. But the numbness travelling through your thigh was distracting you, as though it was reminding you of all your anxious thoughts. It was too late now though, and you had to rip the band aid off eventually and show him what you had done. It was inevitable. Bound to happen. You might as well take the moment by the horns and control it as much as you could.

“Hey, are you listening to me? What's going on with you?” Maugaloa stopped dead in your tracks; if he hadn't drawn you out of your thoughts so quickly, you would've walked head on into him. He stood, towering over you, watching you with curiosity and concern. It wasn't like you to be silent, stuck in your mind and focused on something other than his smooth words and slick voice. It struck him quickly, and he made it his new goal to pry out of you what's wrong.

“It's nothing, don't worry babe.” you replied sheepishly, with Maugaloa's brow arching the more your words slipped from your lips with anxiety coated into every syllable. It was obvious it wasn’t just nothing, and he intended to make the awkward silence speak for itself, refusing to move until you told him what was happening with you. Quickly, he crossed his arms in front of you, his personal way of telling you he's not satisfied with the answer. His gaze never left you, remaining above and on you, analysing any small inconsistency in your presence.

“Honestly, trust me, it's nothing important. Just thinking about what I want to show you, that's all. I'm alright, okay?” you spoke with more confidence, not wanting to completely crumble in front of the cameras nearby for eyes that didn't need to see them. He watched with less concern now, his shoulders dropping with ease, and coming back to your side. Maugaloa's nod of approval meant he was content with your answer now, letting you both continue to your spot before any more time was wasted.

And soon enough, you were there. Your beloved spot. But now, it felt dreaded. The time had come, and your confidence whilst in your appointment had shattered itself, overridden with concern and anxiety. You wished for time to stop there, to replay each and every scenario to pick the best outcome. You knew it had to be done, and there was no point in wasting time.

You watched carefully as Maugaloa sat to the side, his eyes leaving you momentarily as he steadied his muscular body onto the cold floor. He rarely felt the cold anymore, but even this spot made him shiver at times. It was endearing, and helped you distract yourself from your internal screams of anxiety. You watched as he motioned you to sit next to him, facing away for a moment. This was the time, you thought. Now or never, right?

When Maugaloa turned to face you again, your joggers were dropped, leaving you exposed to the cold. His expression became hot and heavy, feeling as though you were insinuating something more sultry with him. His mind went to dirty places, as though it was a pig seeing mud puddles again after a drought. He was always like this, excited over small gestures you did. You stood there, exposing yourself, watching as his eyes trailed over skin he had seen multiple times. Maugaloa knew your body better than you did, you swore at times, but it still took him some time to see the cling film bandaging that stuck to your skin, concealing something…

He finally noticed it, with his expression changing to curiosity. Maugaloa wasn't a stranger to tattoos, but he never expected you to be wearing something even he knew was typical of a freshly applied one. He knew the process as though it was eating, and was covered with tattoos. You often asked about them, listening to the stories behind each and every one, with your ears often ringing with his voice after his ramblings. But never, not once and not ever, had you suggested you'd like one. It was a well kept secret, and Maugaloa couldn't tell if he should be impressed or shocked that you didn't fold and tell him as soon as the idea of getting one crossed your mind.

Maugaloa studied your body, intending to decipher what was being covered by the layers of film. It was a game for him now, as he mentally began to decode the words left on your upper thigh. You watched his face twist and turn, he never had a good poker face, truly. This moment proved that, and you couldn't help but feel as though this was dragging on much longer than it needed to be.

“Maua, quit staring and just ask me what it is already!” your voice came out squeakier than you intended - you wanted to sound assertive, grab his attention quickly to kill the fear in your chest that was building up ever so slightly with each passing second. It was killing you, watching him try to figure this out, and he finally took the hint, giving into your pleas.

“Fine, do you have to ruin the fun?” he replied, in a playful tone that you weren't unfamiliar with. “What's under the wrap, ma’asoama?” his voice was more breathless, as though he was giving into you, letting go of the thrill of seeking answers himself. 

A sharp breath invaded your throat, as you bent over, unwrapped your tattoo, revealing the pet name you had constantly called your partner marked into your thigh. It was the most fitting place, really.

He loved your thighs, loved digging his teeth into them, touching them, making sure they were within his grasp at all times. Maugaloa's intentions weren't always sexual either - he just has an affinity for them. It's his kryptonite, if you will. So, you couldn't help yourself from getting the nickname ‘maua’ tattooed on you, in a Polynesian-styled font that the artist insisted on you getting. Your tattoo was done the traditional way, the way that Maugaloa preached about and always spoke highly of within his culture. You wanted to experience it too, and embrace him in every way possible. That included marking his favourite place on you with a name that often broke down his walls and let you creep into his heart. 

As soon as he processed what he was witnessing, his skin darkened at the cheeks, frozen as though he was a picture in a moment. He didn't move, his lips were apart, and it seemed as though he was holding his breath. Maugaloa's poker face was finally working, why did it have to work now? You desperately wanted to know what he thought, what he was feeling about it, if he approves of it. And yet, you couldn't tell just yet. The anticipation was killing you from the inside out, causing your legs to shake slightly.

Maugaloa found his hands quickly touching your thigh, carefully avoiding touching the sensitive area around and at your tattoo. He knew all too well how fast things can go downhill with them, and he wanted to preserve this one perfectly. Not once in his life did he think someone cared enough about him to get something like this tattooed on them, and he, for once in his life, was left speechless. Maugaloa would usually brush moments like this off with a snarky comment, a chuckle, a joke or flirtatious compliment. But this time, something about this time, changed that usual expectation. He was stunned.

“So… what do you think?” you tried to break the silence in a soft, humble way. You didn't want to be overbearing, but deep down your patience was running thin and you were begging for a way to seep yourself into his mind and find out what he was thinking. You loved the tattoo, and what's done was done. But that didn't mean that your anxiety wasn't valid. Your heart continued to race, his hands on your leg keeping them in place but still feeling the tremors run through your muscles.

Silence. Silence was all that was present now as he admired the work on your thigh. It was as though he was trying to kill you, give you a heart attack right now.

“Maua, come on. Tell me already.” you spoke, attempting again to pry any information out of the Samoan man sitting in front of you, not speaking and letting emptiness fill the air for the first time in your relationship. It was an uncomfortable feeling, and you felt yourself growing more desperate with each moment that passed by.

Before you could even stutter out your response, you felt his warm lips kiss at the area surrounding your tattoo - not close enough to be painful or cause any issues with the tattoo itself, but close enough to know that he was appreciating it. You felt yourself burn up, covering your lower face with your hand as you watched him plant kiss after kiss along the skin he so deeply enjoyed. You were used to this, but this moment felt different. As though the moment was marinated in passion and appreciation in a completely different way. You didn't know how to take it, and were left quiet as he continued kissing slowly, leaving trails of his DNA across your tender skin.

Maugaloa stopped below your tattoo, and brought his face back from your leg, watching as the tattoo glistened with plasma and ink. It was breath-taking for him, seeing the word ‘Maua’ on you now. He wanted to touch it, feel it's grooves on your skin, but knew he couldn't. And so, he knew he had to finally use his words. Find the right ones to explain his contentment with this commitment.

“It's beautiful…” was all he could find in his arsenal. Usually, a man like Maugaloa would have tons of things to say. But he genuinely was left helpless, his usual wittiness abandoning him in the face of something so genuinely sweet and loving. Even the thought itself was enough for him to appreciate you more, so seeing it in person, in this way, as a surprise was something he couldn't describe as anything more than beautiful. You watched as he didn't face you to compliment you, as though he was embarrassed to admit it out loud and show his weakness in front of you. Something about you always brought him to this point.

One of your hands found themselves in his hair now, rubbing at the roots and playing with the loose strands that were between your fingers. You loved to do this with him, and it was your way of showing you heard him and acknowledged what he said. You were still covering your face though, the compliment seemingly making you feel more hot inside. The cold that infected this spot was long gone, and your body felt as though it was burning up. All because of your partner. As per usual.

“Thank you, I wanted to get something to show you how much you mean to me, you know?” you spoke softly, with his hums of approval encouraging you to continue.

“I'm glad you like it, I even got it done the traditional Samoan way, the way you told me about…” your voice trailed off, realising how vulnerable this made you seem. You couldn't help it though, you wanted him to appreciate and see how far you were willing to go to make him apart of your life, apart of you. How much you appreciate his culture, his identity, his name, and his very being. You felt so much love for him, and the tattoo was the perfect way to show it off to him and anyone else looking there.

His hums of approval continued, as he enjoyed this moment longer than expected. He didn't respond, instead letting the air fill with love and admiration. Maugaloa was usually a man of words, and yet right now, he wanted nothing more but to sit back and enjoy the view left in front of him. You didn't mind, though, and encouraged him all the more as your fingers danced in his hair, petting him as he touched you more and more.

After some time, he finally wrapped it back up, realising that it might not be good for the tattoo to be exposed for such a long time to the air, to him, and to the cold. He wanted to preserve it as perfectly as possible, and would take care of it for you to get the best possible results from the healing process. His fingers lingered on the cling film, before fully concealing the tattoo again, covering up something he desperately, deep down wanted to keep observing and watching. It pained Maugaloa to do this, but it was for the best, and he appreciated being able to see it now rather than never. You enjoyed moments like this with him - it felt as though words could never be enough to describe the loving nature in his actions, his demeaner, his body language. You wanted to be soaked into his gaze, but knew he was looking out for you, keeping your tattoo safe. 

When he had finally finished putting the film back on, moving further back and letting his hands drop to his sides, you pulled your joggers up quickly. The cold hit you again like a brick, making you shiver and feel as though you were never warm to begin with. You steadied your body, made sure you were careful with sitting down next to him, and found your usual spot at his side. Nothing could've prepared you for such an affectionate display of emotions, but you were incredibly thankful for being able to witness it first hand. 

You found your head nestled on his shoulder quickly, the usual way you two would start to cuddle in your secret spot. It was endearing, and you wanted to be as close to him as possible. Warmth radiated from him, and not just with his body heat. You both sat there in silence, enjoying the thoughts running in your mind about the tattoo. Who knew something so simple would leave a usually chatty man mute?

“I bet you cried like a baby getting it though.” he spoke through chuckles, breaking your silence. You weren't going to admit to it, knowing that if you told him it was the most painful thing you've ever paid for, that he'd never let you live it down. Soon enough, the other taunts and jabs rolled in, one by one by one. Maugaloa was back, and you felt nothing but love for the man at your side, playing with your emotions to conceal his own.

[megabuild]

can we unpack how you abbreviate overwatch as ovw. what the fuck is that abomination. it's clearly ow so that the esports league can be called owl. and then the ao3 fandom for that can be called owl rpf and make people think about the animal. anyway the owl fandom managed to harass the english language authors so bad that all the fics are locked to logged in viewers only. and somehow the fandom is still less weird about rpf than hermitcraft fandom

Oh my bad I didn't know we had an overwatch league rpf expert in our midst

[wri0thesley]

nat now you have me curious! what are your favorite games?

my favourite game franchise is soul calibur!! i am sure it is a surprise to absolutely nobody who has ever met me that i looove raphael. i have loved soul calibur since i was about seven playing soul blade against my grandma on her playstation (she was a voldo main and i was usually playing sophitia or seong mi-na, if you’re curious dhfhuj).

i have also played a lot of overwatch in my time fhfhgh. i got into overwatch through reader-insert fic actually! i think the fan work and fan ideas for ovw are infinitely better than whatever is actually going on. i have also played a lot of dead or alive (i love a fighting game, as mentioned!). i was also a really big fan for a while of those rpgmaker pixel horrors (ib, mad father, the witch’s house etc!).

i like otome games too but i don’t exactly have a ‘favourite’ but i’ve really enjoyed nameless, dandelion wishes and amnesia! i should pick up my switch again bc i started playing piofiore about a year and a half ago and have still only done one playthrough fbfvgbjj