#and any overwatch character for that matter | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

froggibus · 1 year ago

Note

Hey can I request headcanons for overwatch characters and if their gf was drunk and asked them "would you still love me if I was a worm" with the overwatch men please (you don't have to do all of them but PLEASE include McCree and Reaper)

“Would You Still Love Me If I Was A Worm?” - Overwatch Boys

Includes: Cassidy, Reaper, Genji, Zenyatta, Ramattra, Hanzo, Lucio + Baptiste (w gn! reader)

Genre: fluff/kinda crack?

CW: general crack, kinda dumb tbh, suggestive in Genji and Baps, Ram is Ram (lmk if I missed anything)

been in a little bit of a writing slump but this was too good to pass up lol. I want to get a bit more writing done this week so who knows how that will go. anyway, enjoy <3 hope you like it anon!

————

Cassidy:

“what kinda question is that??”

looks at you in flabbergastation

you pout and bat your eyes at him and of course, he breaks

“you’re really not gonna let this go, huh? alright—of course I’d still love you, darlin’. I’d keep you in a lil jar and you could accompany me on my missions”

a jar????

now you’re the flabbergasted one

jars don’t have air—he’s gonna let you suffocate??

what are you?? rainbow dash (sorry)??

somehow leads to him going out into the yard despite it being the middle of the night to try and find a worm

somehow finds one??

keeps it in a jar as a pet just to prove he would love you as a worm

even names it after you and pets it’s head and calls it “my wriggly little y/n”

weirdly wholesome experience would try again

Reaper

“of all the stupid shit you could have asked me…”

he says that but he’s already considering it after the question leaves your mouth

would he love you as a worm?

“what kind of worm”

what do you mean what kind of worm?? does it matter??

obviously the pink wriggly kind

he has to ponder this

sits in his chair stroking his chin trying to think of how you would be as a worm

“would you still be able to talk and think or would you be an actual worm”

????

“it would be me if I was a worm, Gabe”

more pondering

“I’d love you platonically but you would probably have a short life span. I’d throw you a worm funeral.”

better than any response you could have expected but would not try again

Genji

“would we still have sex”

please hit this man

he’s joking of course—he’s not that weird

“why would you be a worm tho”

just answer the question, Genji

green cyborg ninja dude has no idea what to answer

will you be mad if he loves your worm self more than your current self?? would you be weird if he said he would love a wormy version of you??

“I would get myself turned into a worm too and then we could have a wormy life together and a wormy wedding and little wormy kids”

“you just want to have wormy sex” >~>

“that too”

at least he’s honest?

exactly as you expected, would not try again

Zenyatta

“a worm? like the insect?”

“yes? what other worms are there”

considers this

“is everything okay?”

poor omnic boy is so confused. are you planning on turning into a worm???

please reassure him it’s just a hypothetical and you’re not turning into a worm

goes on a ten minute tangent about how we are all the same in the Iris, and that he will love you no matter what form you take

honestly so wholesome + cute

“i will care for you in this life, and the next, and all of the ones after that. even the ones where you are a worm.”

good enough would try again

Ramattra

“No”

way to sugarcoat it, babe

it’s only when you get upset that he sighs and pulls you into his lap

“why would you ever become a worm? is someone trying to harm you? you know I would never let anyone bring harm to you.”

you try to explain that it’s just a hypothetical but he’s already going on a tangent on what he would do if you got turned into a worm

talks for five minutes alone on how he would defeat your enemies and defend your honour

says he would “put you out of your misery”????

“you would KILL ME?!”

“as an act of honour”

babe….

0/10 would not try again

Hanzo

“why”

idk bro just answer the question

lots of sighing and pinching the bridge of his nose

“would I also be a worm or am i still human”

only gets more confused when you say he’d be a human and you’d be a worm

probably looks up worm life expectancy and if worms are capable of love

“would you even know who I am if you were a worm”

has to ask a million questions before he can give his final verdict

lets out a long sigh before looking you dead in the eyes

“…yes”

cute in the end but would not try again

Lucio:

“would you still love me if I turned into a frog?”

that’s not the question

somehow it turns into a discussion on if he would eat your worm self if he was his frog self?

he insists he wouldn’t and would let you ride on his back but you insist his frog instincts would be too strong

“babe I’ve once seen you almost eat your own finger while eating chips”

“ok and??”

says you guys could live in a swamp together and he would protect you from evil

“I could be like your own frog superhero. I could even sing you little froggy songs”

makes up this entire life of you guys living together as a frog and a worm and him serenading you by croaking songs at night

honestly it’s the best reaction you could have gotten, would try again

Baptiste:

“i would find you a cure and turn you back into a human”

honestly he’s very amused by this whole situation

“but what if I want to be a worm”

“if I cure you and you want to turn back into a worm, that’s on you”

fair enough

insists he needs to ‘examine’ you so he knows you’re not turning into a worm

makes a lot of jokes at your expense too

finally sighs and admits he would keep you in a little terrarium with all the food and nutrients you need

“ha, so you would love me if I was a worm”

“love is a strong word”

good enough, would not try again

2K notes · View notes

pochipop · 1 year ago

Text

＃MYSTIC MESSENGER !! ♡ — BEING VULNERABLE WITH YOU.

#. synopsis! — how they show their trust .

#. characters! — jumin, zen (hyun), yoosung, saeyoung (707), saeran (ray), jihyun (v) .

#. warnings! — slight angst.

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. a/n! — come join my discord server? it's newly opened with a fantasy bakery theme! we have emojis from genshin impact, honkai star rail, sanrio, overwatch, pokemon, mystic messenger, and more! a collection of funny stickers, channels to promote yourself, meet new friends, share your writing/art, + lots more! plus, our staff is very chill and friendly! we'd love to see you there! <;33

＃ JUMIN !! ♡

Jumin, who never really thought himself to be the romantic type, but loses himself so easily in his relationship with you that he’d do anything imaginable just to see you smile for him. This sophisticated, pressed-suit wearing, stone-faced man who just crumbles when it comes to you, —who once thought love was some sick ruse made to rope people in and keep them hostage to their feelings, suddenly realizing that this rush is marvelous, and he can’t quite clearly remember a time before his heart seemed to beat for you. This man who swore he’d never love someone enough to put aside everything else on his mind and just live in the moment who sheds that dry cleaned business attire at the end of every workday and lets himself come undone for you. His walls come down and he welcomes you inside, and for once, he’s not scared of what will happen when you see the parts of him that perhaps aren’t as pretty as others. He lets you see the beautiful mess he’s made of himself over the years, and it’s then that he begins to pick up all these tattered pieces, finally preparing to put himself back together again. And recognizing you’ll help him do so is the sweetest comfort he’s ever known.

＃ HYUN (ZEN) !! ♡

Hyun, who stops pretending to be perfect over time and lets you see him in all the stages of healing. This man who often shields himself from the world, hiding behind a mask of narcissistic confidence, who finally lets his imperfections seep through to the surface and breathes another sigh of relief every single time you stay in the aftermath. He lets you in on the insecurities that lap at his ankles much more often than he'd ever had liked to have admitted before. He lets you hold him when he shatters instead of pushing you away, —dulls all his rigid edges to feel your warmth surround him, as if lowering all his defenses for the very first time. The world can be a cruel place to those that have made mistakes, but Hyun feels like he's finally found someone who can look at him for more than just the pretty, well-kempt face he maintains for the public. There's no sense of shame he feels the need to drown in when you let him fall apart in your arms. There's no crushing feeling of disappointment or suffocating feeling of disdain. He's more human than he fears he's ever been when your thumbs wipe the tears from beneath his eyes and you whisper to him that everything will be okay.

＃ YOOSUNG !! ♡

Yoosung, who learns over time how to not let things fester until they’ve built up so much he can’t keep them in any longer. For all he is and might not ever be, he’s come to realize that it’s okay to express his emotions before they reach a boiling point. He comes to you at the onset of upsetedness, —allows himself to feel frustrated without stuffing it down and pretending the problem doesn’t exist until it explodes. He finds that it’s so much easier to be earnest when you never talk down to him or make him feel like he’s any less of a person in your eyes because of it. Sometimes he needs advice, and other times, he just needs someone to talk to. No matter the case, he seeks you out before anyone else, knowing that you care enough about him to value his thoughts and opinions without qualifiers or regulations. He holds grudges sometimes that aren’t good for his own sake, and being shut down when he tries to address them only adds fuel to the fire. Having someone who truly listens and tells him that it’s okay to feel the way he does goes such a long way, —perhaps longer than you’ll ever know.

＃ SAEYOUNG (707) !! ♡

Saeyoung, who lets himself be honest eventually, —who lets himself chip away and then lets you smooth him over. He’s done a lot of things he’s not proud of, and he doesn’t need anyone to tell him that it wasn’t his fault. Whether it was or wasn’t doesn’t matter as much as what he knows he has to do going forward, and the last thing he really wants is to be coddled out of pity. He just wants to be heard, no sympathy necessary, no fawning over the way he sheds the skin he used to wear when he felt like happiness was millions of miles away. He just wants to be listened to. To Saeyoung, it’s the ultimate show of trust to admit to all the things he regrets, let them spill out like word vomit and not have to worry about the consequences. He doesn’t need you to understand, and knows you likely can’t given the specifics of his life’s course thus far, but knowing that you’re keen on carrying the burden with him is such an insurmountable feeling of relief. Finally, someone knows every grimy little corner of his soul and they still love him, still hold him, still want him. . . There’s nothing quite like it.

＃ SAERAN (RAY) !! ♡

Saeran, who lets little things slip as time goes on, —stares a little longer when he passes twin popsicles in grocery stores because he knows you won’t ask why. As much as he likes to pretend that he can fix things by pretending they never hurt him in the first place, there are always scars that linger just below the surface, ready to burst at the first sight of mint-colored liquids or at the first sound of deceptively sweet voices offering commands from the shadows. He carries a lot around with him wherever he goes, and just loving him until the sun dies isn’t a cure-all. You can’t turn back time and shield him from all the things in his life that have left him feeling like a shattered stain glass window. All the love in the world can’t fix the past. But there’s nothing that means more to him than knowing he can lean on you, —even if he doesn’t always do it. There’s such a sweet comfort in knowing he can turn to you when he feels like he’s drowning. And if sometimes that manifests only in letting himself shed a few tears while he eats an ice cream cone outside next to you in the sunshine, then so be it.

＃ JIHYUN (V) !! ♡

Jihyun, who talks about it all a little at a time, —about the good and the bad, the ugly and the beautiful; because it wasn’t always bad. There were times before you came in which he’d been so in love that he’d have done anything to stay exactly where he was, to freeze those moments up and keep them in a capsule that could never be shaken. And it’s important for Jihyun to tell you about those things every now and again, to let you in and reminisce on the way he’d once been so sure of it all, so ready to settle down and stay exactly where he was. But it’s equally as important for him to bare the remnants of the betrayal for you to kiss, and hold, and make peace with. He likes to think you understand him better in the wake of it, —that you’ve seen him in a new light every time he sits with you and tells you of the loss, the desire, the yearning, and all the ways he wishes things could have been different for everyone. In the end, he’s here, and there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

1K notes · View notes

vexwerewolf · 7 months ago

Note

Tell us about one of your favorite Lancer mechs you've piloted

(art by @deeganart)

-- IPS-N Tortuga @ LL12 -- [ LICENSES ] HORUS Goblin 3, IPS-N Tortuga 2, HA Sherman 3, SSC Dusk Wing 3, IPS-N Raleigh 1 [ CORE BONUSES ] Sloped Plating, Heatfall Coolant System, Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints, Improved Armament [ TALENTS ] Vanguard 3, Leader 3, Grease Monkey 3, Nuclear Cavalier 3, Combined Arms 2, Empath 1 [ STATS ] HULL:4 AGI:2 SYS:4 ENGI:4 STRUCTURE:4 HP:24 ARMOR:3 STRESS:4 HEATCAP:10 REPAIR:8 TECH ATK:+5 LIMITED:+2 SPD:4 EVA:8 EDEF:14 SENSE:15 SAVE:16 [ WEAPONS ] Integrated: Fuel Rod Gun FLEX MOUNT: Hand Cannon / Hand Cannon MAIN MOUNT: Deck-Sweeper Automatic Shotgun HEAVY MOUNT: ANDROMEDA-Pattern Heavy Laser Rifle // Auto-Stabilizing Hardpoints [ SYSTEMS ] Personalizations, ASURA-Class NHP x3, H0R_OS System Upgrade I, H0R_OS System Upgrade II, Flicker Field Projector, Redundant Systems Upgrade x3, BB Breach/Blast Charges x5

This mech does everything.

It's tough, it's survivable, it can hand out truly obscene amounts of damage. It can create instant Size 2 cover anywhere within Sensors. It can shut down high-power enemies. Every time it moves, the first attack against it has a flat 50% chance to miss. It can give allies +1d6 damage as a reaction. If an enemy so much as sneezes in its vicinity, it will light it up. So long as there are less than five combats in the mission, it can use ASURA every combat. Once per mission, everyone gets a point of Structure repaired and a use of all Limited systems restored for free.

Having the extra Flex with the Hand Cannons allows it to do a truly filthy trick with its Core System. Hyper-Reflex Mode says "any character you hit with Overwatch becomes Immobilized until the end of their next turn." If you Overwatch with a Main/Aux or an Aux/Aux, your first attack in the sequence must be against the enemy who triggered it, but your second attack isn't subject to this restriction, so if someone triggers your Overwatch while HRM is on, you can fire the second Hand Cannon at some rando who's also in range and they both get Immobilized.

It has no melee weapons and needs none thanks to Combined Arms 2, and thanks to Combined Arms 1 it can get soft cover just by being adjacent to an enemy.

With 10 Heat Cap and Heatfall, it can safely Overcharge Loop to fire its Andromeda, and it has a 1-in-3 chance of being able to trigger Nuclear Cavalier every time it does so. Andromeda gets +1 Accuracy automatically.

Switch customized it to have a small fleet of camera drones constantly circling it so that they can livestream all their mech fights, and they always carry an omnihook with them so that they'll be able to connect to the omninet no matter where they are.

This isn't a meme machine. It's a fucking dream machine.

#lancer #lancer rpg #lancerrpg #lancer-rpg #ipswich delacey #tortuga

202 notes · View notes

txttletale · 9 months ago

Note

How is it possible that, in a multiplayer game, a character can be useless in pro gameplay but good in casual gameplay?

sometimes, it's because there are specific aspects of organized team play that are not technically 'inside the game' but render the character useless. for example, bastion from overwatch (pre-his ow2 rework) was a character whose gimmick was being able to do huge amounts of damage at the cost of being unable to move. the spy in team fortress 2 can kill people and then pretend to be them. these are both pretty strong in casual games when nobody is on voice comms, but in pro (or even high-level casual) games where everyone is in a voice chat together and communicating constantly, it's really easy to say "bastion is top right, flank him" or "the spy just got me".

a lot of strategies like this, that rely on surprise or deception (or, in games like league, poor map vision and awareness) get drastically worse the higher level play is, and so the same is true for character who are built around them.

another factor is skill expression -- basically, how many ways you have as a good player to leverage your skill for more impact. characters with extremely high mechanical variance, like widowmaker in overwatch, are going to vary wildly between a good player and a bad player, because the character requires you to consistently get headshots to get any value whatsoever. characters with higher skill expression are inevitably going to get better and better as you climb the ranks, eventually overtaking characters with low skill expression.

so, for example, characters in mobas or shooters who can get guaranteed value without having to aim or land a skillshot or position well have a guaranteed floor of value they're always going to bring to the team, no matter how bad the player playing them is. take junkrat from overwatch, whose primary form of landing damage is spamming bouncing grenades down chokepoints. a bad player is capable of doing this and getting, while not the most possible value from him (there is always going to be some level of skill expression where there is interactivity), a reasonable amount of value from him, whcih makes him disproportionately good in a lobby where everyone is bad but playing a character with a lower skill floor.

and this is good for the game! it is good for brand new players (or casual players who don't care about being good at the game) to have characters they can pick and reliably give their team value no matter how bad they are. it is good to introduce characters who can do insane things if you're really good at the game and give your higher tiers of play more complexity.

#ask

277 notes · View notes

volskayadottxt · 3 months ago

Text

After four months of work, we've finally released our zine "We'll Build Our Own Future" for free download HERE!

This was the passion project of writers and artists from the Overwatch fandom--over 40 pieces of art, stories, and comics imagining what might've happened after Invasion.

We decided to create this book because of the love we have for the Story Missions and our appreciation for the workers whose labor created them, as well as our anger and frustration at seeing Microsoft break that team apart after a troubled development cycle for which they weren't responsible for. Coming together as a group and sharing the creative process allowed us to grieve.

What was created for those missions to meant a lot to us. If any of it mattered to you, if the world and characters of Overwatch matter to you, we hope you'll take the time to read our little book.

PS: If there are any things you really like about the book, please let me know! I would love to share it with the participants. :)

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch fanart #ow #ow2 #overwatch zine

101 notes · View notes

edensdahlia · 1 year ago

Text

༊*·˚ Until I Say So

CHARACTERS: John Price x M! Reader (F! Reader here)

RATING: NSFW

CONTENTS: Military reader, canon typical violence, Price thinks reader needs a little extra training after they get compromised during a mission, may be inaccuracies in the fighting, porn with plot because I can’t write it without, established relationship, relationship with a superior <3, sparring as foreplay, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, voyeurism (?), multiple orgasms, nicknames used: muppet, darling, love

ೃ⁀➷ WORD COUNT: 2K

“--How copy?” Price’s voice crackled through the comms, rough in all the right places and with just the slightest bit of worry buried deep beneath his impassive tone. It couldn’t be helped, worrying about you came naturally to him, like donning a second skin he couldn’t seem to shed no matter how hard he tried. He really did try. In his line of work, he couldn’t afford to worry, it was a distraction when he needed to be anything but. Distractions could cost a life.

Subconsciously, Price tightened the grip he had on his rifle, trying to convince himself the sudden tension in his body was from the mission itself and not you. Although he really shouldn’t have been tense over that either. The operation was a simple two-person job with him acting as overwatch while you mapped out the interior of a warehouse suspected to be owned by a high-profile cartel. During debriefing Laswell had confirmed that the warehouse would be empty until the following week when shipments would first start arriving.

Meaning it should have been an easy in and out. Childs play really, and yet the silence seemed to stretch eons as he continued to scan the windows of the warehouse, searching for any sign of movement. For any sign of you. The sound of static filtered through the air, startling him, and then your voice came through, low and slightly breathy.

“All good so far Captain. Warehouse appears empty.”

Your voice was like a shot of comfort directly to his nervous system. The tension in his body seemed to fade. His grip slackened but remained steady as he continued searching the windows. “Good. Map the layout and get out. Quickly yeah?” There was the sound of static again and then your hushed laughter- more an exhale than an actual laugh.

“Sounds like you’re worried sir.”

He was. Of course, he was.

“Focus Sergeant.” It wasn’t a direct command but it had the same effect regardless. On the other side of the comms, you fell silent returning your attention back to the objective you’d been given. Eventually, finally, he caught sight of you, moving with the efficiency that had been drilled into you as a rookie.

Price watched as you dipped in and out of side rooms his heart seeming to still until you came back into the focus of his scope standing just in his line of sight. Your head was tilted up towards the window as if you could see him and the thought sent a secret thrill up his spine.

“All finished here sir, heading back your way.”

“Good work, Sergeant.” The praise fell from his lips easily. Like a secret only you were privy to. His words hung briefly between you two disappearing like mist on a summer day as something flashed behind you, a streak of silver turned a blinding white by the moonlight cast through the cracking windows.

The warehouse was supposed to be empty.

The shadowy figure behind you crumpled to the ground, dead by the silent bullet Price had put through his brain. A moment too late. Just a moment. You looked up through the shattered glass one hand around your neck attempting to stop the blood that leaked through your shaking fingers.

♡ 。。

Price loomed above you his legs bracketing your hips, keeping you pinned firmly to the floor in a position that was vaguely familiar. He smelled of cigar smoke and sweat, a combination you would have found comfort in had you not been wrestling with him for some semblance of control. You thrashed in his grip fists coming up to connect harshly against his chest. The force of it drew a small wheeze from him that morphed into a growl as he dug the blunt edge of a knife unceremoniously against your neck. It rested just above the jagged scar splitting your throat and when he pressed down just a bit more you felt the warning behind it, gaze finding his in defeat.

He shook his head at the look withdrawing from you, watching as you rolled over, panting from exertion and the vaguest hint of something else. Sweat collected near your hairline and dripped slowly down your nose leaving a dark stain on the mat below you.

“Get up muppet.” The words fell from him, in a harsh bark that had your mind dizzy with the possibilities of what else he could command you to do. Weakly, every bone in your body aching with the movement, you pulled yourself to your feet, stumbling slightly to the side.

“Can’t we take a break Captain?” You wiped the sweat from your brow with the edge of your shirt, the movement revealing a strip of scarred skin. His gaze flickered to it unthinkingly. “I just got dismissed from medical you know.” Your shirt dropped back in place and he frowned simultaneously at the loss of such a sight and your words.

“And why were you put there in the first place Sergeant?” Price challenged. You sighed through your nose and he took that as a sign of defeat gesturing with the plastic knife in a ‘come on’ motion. “Again.” His gaze remained steady on yours as you circled the mat together, each waiting for the other to make the first move.

Taking initiative you lunged for him, your dominant hand swinging out in a messy hook. Price ducked easily beneath the arm you had thrown out, pivoting so he could slam his foot into the back of your knee. You crumpled to the ground hands coming out to catch you, but he dragged you back with his forearm secured around your chest and the knife flat against your throat.

“Compromised again Sergeant.” His voice was a whisper against the shell of your ear. “You’re getting sloppy.”

You squeezed your eyes tightly together trying to fight off the arousal you felt aching between your legs. It’d been there since he’d first walked through the training room doors wearing a compression shirt that showed everything off in just the right way and sweatpants that hung dangerously low. With each press of your bodies together- each struggle for control it’d only intensified turning into a burning heat you needed so desperately to satisfy.

“I’m tired.” You offered in weak defence. The hard muscle of his thigh sat temptingly between your legs and you slowly let yourself relax in his grip, allowing you to subtly grind against his leg.

“Tired eh?” Price brought his thigh up pressing harder into your semi-hard cock and drawing a whimper from your lips as you met him halfway. Maybe not so subtle then. The knife tumbled to the floor as he settled his hands on your hips helping assist in the slow grind of you against him. Your chin dropped towards your chest at the sensation, thighs burning with the effort of keeping you upright. Price slid a hand beneath your jaw forcing your head up and turning it towards him so he could bring your mouth to his in a heated kiss. It was lazy on your part, your body sluggish from the training you’d gone through, and when you pulled back your eyes remained half-lidded.

Price smiled at the look. “You truly are a sight for sore eyes darlin’.”

The compliment did nothing but fuel your desperation. You arched further into him, nose brushing the skin of his throat. “I need you.” It was a quiet plea. A beg for him to relieve you of your own painful arousal. His hand slid beneath the band of your sweatpants teasingly and you thought for a moment he just might, but his fingers skimmed across your clothed cock with barely-there touches.

“Now?” He applied the slightest bit of pressure and you squirmed, hips rocking against his hand desperately. “Where anyone could see you?” You nodded pathetically, grinding yourself downwards in search of something more but it wasn’t enough.

“Fuckin’ tease.” Price chuckled as he hauled you off his lap, repositioning you so you were laid out flat on your back. He slid your sweatpants and underwear down to your ankles, revealing more of you to his hungry gaze. Every inch of your skin was intoxicating, each scar and blemish stirring something in him.

His cock was heavy in his hands and unsurprisingly hard as he angled it against your entrance. You grabbed for the back of his neck nails scraping against the short hair there as he entered you. It wasn’t slow by any means and it burned with every inch he forced forward but it was good. So good. Your eyes fluttered closed nails digging into his scalp as he rocked against you. It was rough, needy almost. His fingers dug into your sides pulling you in, each thrust opening you further.

“I was worried about you.” Price confessed on a particularly hard thrust that had your eyes rolling back into your head. “Bloody bastard should have never touched you.” His voice was thick with emotion, a sound so rare it had your eyes blearily finding his.

“Wasn’t your fault-” You whined attempting to lift your head up but failing miserably as he fucked you harshly into the mat. Clumsily you sought out his hand squeezing it reassuringly, the touch the best you could offer when he was filling you so completely. Price seemed to understand though. He leaned down and pressed a kiss to your temple, his beard scraping against your skin.

“Won’t happen again yeah?”

There was a sureness to his words, a casual confidence that left no room for argument. Although- you certainly were in no position to argue as it was. Price somehow sensing your impending orgasm soothed a hand down your sweaty face, eyes crinkling at the corners as he smiled down at you. “Go on love, I know you’re close.” His words and the look on his face were horribly tender, a startling contrast to the way his hips snapped against yours, rough and without mercy.

Your legs tightened around his waist drawing him closer to you as you came. Price didn’t slow in the slightest bit. If anything he picked up in pace watching the way your eyes flew open. Overstimulation drew you up onto your forearms, one hand shooting out to steady yourself on his shoulder.

“John!”

He chuckled the sound lost in the skin of your neck. Each drag of his cock felt like heaven and hell all at once. The overstimulation was bringing you back up to that previous peak quicker than you could form the words for. It didn’t help either the way he continued to stroke your cock, drawing his thumb in lazy circles across the leaking tip and delighting at the pitiful sounds it drew from you. You were already hard again. Painfully so.

“You gonna come again, love?” You nodded chest heaving with the effort of drawing air into your poor lungs. Price nipped at the junction between your neck and shoulder smiling. “Good.” He continued rutting into you, the slick sounds of his hand around your cock obscene in the empty training room. At this point, you were halfway into his lap and each thrust imprinted the shape of his cock to your insides leaving you a stuttering mess of his name.

Exactly how he liked you.

Your second orgasm was stronger than the first and had you clenching around his cock almost painfully. Price cursed lowly slowing his thrusts to help draw it out, until you finally collapsed against him, legs twitching and breaths coming in short puffs. He lifted you slowly off him and you sighed in relief. His cock brushed against your stomach still leaking precum. Lazily you reached between your bodies intent on finishing him off with your hand but he swatted it away.

“On your stomach love. Ass up.”

The fucked out haze of your mind swirled curiously trying to process his words. You lifted your head searching his eyes in confusion. “Sir?” You asked voice shaky, looking every bit the fucked out mess you were.

Price couldn’t help the sick satisfaction he felt at being able to reduce you to such a state. “C’mon Sergeant,” He eased you up and then pushed you onto your stomach, your face pressed uncomfortably to the mat. “I’m not done with you yet.”

A/N: I’m honestly not too happy with how this turned out but it’s been sitting in my draft for like a month lmao. As always though thank you so much for taking the time to read this mess- have a lovely lovely day

#₊˚ପ⊹edensdahlia #₊˚ପ⊹pickedpleasures #call of duty mw2 #price x reader #cod price #price mw2 #captain price #john price x reader #john price #price smut #cod mw2 smut #john price x male reader #m! reader #male reader

409 notes · View notes

acradelius · 9 months ago

Note

Roadhog smut where Reader has a kink for being praised?

"Such A Good Little Piggy~"

Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2

Pairing: Roadhog ("Mako Rutledge") x Gender Neutral! Reader

Rating: Lemon [🟡] - (NSFW!)

Warnings/Mention Ofs: MDNI, Gender Neutral! Reader, They/Them Pronouns Used For Reader, Soft! Dominant! Roadhog, Verbal Praise Kink, Verbal Praise - Roadhog Giving/Reader Receiving, Reader Gets Called Gorgeous- Still Gender Neutral, Nickname Usage, Spanking, Roadhog Being Slightly Commanding.

Word Count: 516 Words

Taglist: @masterofpuns

(It took longer than expected to get this out because I thought I was doing the tagging/mentioning system wrong, lol)

If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!

“..and here you said that you wouldn’t be able to take such a thick, enormous cock~'' There's a taunting, teasing tone within the words that Mako speaks, followed by a chuckle of mere amusement, as he watches his poor, little (Y/N) squirming underneath his own bulky size in an attempt to adjust to the seemingly never-ending length of Mako’s cock. A bright, flustered blush covering their cheeks while their eyes are slightly blown from the pleasure that’s coursing throughout their system. “..looking so gorgeous down there as you continue to try to handle all of me~ Such a good Little Piggy, aren’t you?~” His words, that gravelly tone of voice, especially whenever he would praise them, conjures up a loud, almost desperate moan from (Y/N)’s lips. Slowly, but surely, inch after inch (Y/N) manages to take from Mako, a pleasurable pressure becoming a bit more intense the more that they take, until there’s a sigh of relief that escapes the heavyset man above them. “Managed to take it all, huh?~ All the way to the base, Little Piggy~ It drives me absolutely wild whenever you’re able to take me all like this~”

It was almost an addiction, the emotions that were at an all time high within (Y/N), combined with the consistent pleasure that came along with arching their back just right and beginning to move their hips in a - circular motion. While the movement from Mako himself was appreciated, causing a brief high pitched cry to escape out into the open from the occasional quick, rough thrust, Mako really wouldn’t have to do anything at this point. (Y/N) was doing everything on their own. It definitely was a sight, a sight that he would make sure to engrain within his memories. “That’s my good Piggy~ Rock your hips just like that~” Another firm slap to their ass, another soft moan that leaves their lips. “Good, good~ Now, how about you go faster?~ I know that you can take it~"

“I’m so proud of you for taking my cock so well, (Y/N)~ You’ve done so well to please me so far~ How about you give yourself a well deserved break and let Daddy Pig take the reins, hm?~ I’ll take such good care of you as you have been taking such good care of me~” Mako doesn’t bother to even give (Y/N) the chance to respond before he places his enormous hands upon (Y/N)’s hips, having a tight grip before he begins setting a quick, yet gentle pace as he thrusts. It doesn’t matter though. Between the physical pleasure that he was bestowing upon (Y/N), and the constant praise that he was giving, (Y/N) was feeling as if they were on Cloud Nine, and wouldn’t want it any other way. Slightly blown pupils from the lust and arousal that coursed throughout their system, and the large grin that was gracing their lips, it was obvious to tell that they were enjoying it. “Such a good, little Piggy, I am~ Such a good, little Piggy~”

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #mako rutledge #roadhog overwatch #overwatch roadhog #roadhog x reader #roadhog smut #x reader #x reader smut #lemon rating #requests?! thank you<3

84 notes · View notes

stregajulia · 5 months ago

Text

Why I don't have friends?

pile 1 - pile 2 - pile 3

DISCLAIMER.These general free readings are made in good faith for entertainment purposes.

How to pick a pile. When you have different cards to choose from in pile 1,2,3… look at each of those cards. Wait until someone reminds you of a memory. Perhaps a character’s outfit resembles one of your own. It is this pile that has its message. What if they all remind me of something? Go for the one with the strongest memory, one might look like her earring but another might be the favorite candy you got from your grandma when you vacationed at her house. But what if none reminds me of something? Take a deep breath and wait a little longer, without charging yourself or creating worries. Relax, some will awaken some memory in you, I promise!

Pile 1

Hello, little Cherub! When we start reading, we already have a clear answer: the reason why you have few friends is related to judgements, prejudices and realities that you believe to be absolute. For you, the world can be cruel, with petty, prejudiced and manipulative people. That's how you've seen the world until today, with these types of people always ready to take you down at any moment.

It is important to remember that, although there are reasons, this does not mean that the result will always be negative. If you have a closed mind and are very judgmental of others, this may be a reflection of past experiences, such as being bullied. Right? No. In the end you are also being like the people you judge so much. You always feel overwatched… overwatching others. The insights indicate that these perceptions may have been with you since childhood, creating a reality that you believe to be immutable, "all my friendships were like this, so all friendships ARE like this" and because of this, you close yourself off.

You also drink too much of the social media water, so you see gratuitous hate everywhere. You see that no matter what you are, it seems like the world hates you, too fat, too thin, you are a man, you are a woman, you have criticism and more criticism of who you are from strangers on the internet and you conclude again "the world is a trash". Do you want to make new friends? Absolutely! But you're soo scared of these"trash", right?

But the message is clear: this situation is not permanent. Just because you have few friends now doesn't mean it will be that way forever. The advice here is to be more authentic, open yourself to new experiences,. Start opening up to things you like! Cinema, food, dancing, things that you refuse to do because you think they are not for you. HOWEVER, don't feel like you're going to run amok like an addict going to all the bars and places that YOU KNOW are wrong! It's not about doing a 180º and saying that now you're going to be a "rebel", because you're going to MAKE A MISTAKE! Go to places that you can tell everyone and not being asshamed of.

Now, avoid the despair of accepting anyone just to avoid being alone. You will, unfortunately, first attract treacherous people and if you accept them on your path, you will return to the cycle of "the world sucks, people are mean and blahblahblah"…. You will meet them, but remember our good and old "nope". Use your judgment and avoid extreme changes in behavior without adequate planning. You're smart girl, stop acting stupid.

Pile 2

Hello little Cherub! Let's start by understanding why you have few friends. It's possible that this is due to significant changes you've recently faced, such as changing jobs, schools, cities, or even countries. These changes will naturally affected your social circle, right? In some cases, it's just a matter of appearance, major weight loss, an afro hairstyle, or even incurable diseases that change anyone's routine.

You may be finding it difficult to integrate into new social circles. It seems like every time you approach a new group, there's a big bubble that needs to be burst… you all speak the same language but why so diffent??? It's common to feel like your experiences and interests are different, which can make interacting and creating new friendships difficult.

Additionally, there may be personal resistance to making an effort to fit into new groups. You may question whether it is worth the effort to integrate and what the benefit would be. This lack of motivation can result in a more reserved or distant attitude, which can alienate potential new friendships. You want to go back to what you had before, your old friendships…

To overcome this, it's important to recognize that it's not necessary to form large social circles right away. Start small by establishing one-on-one connections, like a friend at work, school, college, or the gym. This can help build trust and facilitate deeper interactions in the future. Being social is healthy and necessary.

Now I need to give you an earful because you are behaving childishly on your behalf too. You know that child shouting "I don't want it" in the supermarket……….. it's you. Also, you're showing yourself like "I know that it's different but it's okay" or "fuck, I hate this"? You close yourself off so much in your reality that it's difficult to enter and understand the reality of others, so they throw a spaghetti party, they don't invite you because every day you say that you hate pasta, and then you find out that there was this spaghetti party and now you're super upset that you wasn't invited…

Avoid behaviors that can alienate people, such as being overly reserved or showing a lack of interest in social activities. Stay open to new experiences and encounters, even if they may initially seem uncomfortable. Openness can open doors to new friendships and a more diverse and enriching social circle.

Pile 3

Hello, little Cherub. Let's start reading by exploring the central question: why do you have few friends these days? It seems like you believe it is due to studies. You've dedicated a lot of time to this, whether on your own or because you're in college. This is your initial perception.

However, as we read deeper, we see that the true reason may be different. It appears that your romantic relationship has played a significant role in limiting your friendships. In this pile I'm not talking about marriage, but a long-term relationship. This relationship has taken up a large part of your time and energy, which ends up restricting your socialization opportunities.

Maybe you and your partner spend so much time together that there's no room for other friendships. As if you had to save all the energy you had left that week to spend time with them. And there may be issues of jealousy, both on your part and his, that make it difficult to get close to other people.

Do you want to have new friendships? Of course. You've always valued having friends around, and you've never been a lonely person. You always had several friends, someone to talk to and share moments with. However, now it seems like your partner is the only person you spend your time with, and that's something you've never done before.

The reading suggests that you have an upright and idealistic personality. Even when you saw wrong things, you did not allow yourself to be influenced by them. But you may now be falling into the trap of not realizing that you are also doing something wrong, like isolating yourself socially because of your relationship, or some really toxic shit, you know what I am talking about. Furthermore, you have this need to show yourself as someone "clean", without mistakes, always with the best and you know, even if unconsciously, that you are "dirty" and feel incapable of getting involved with people other than your boyfriend

The advice here is for you to have a clearer view of your current situation. Reflect on your relationship. Is it stopping you from living fully? Are fights and jealousy taking a heavy toll? Ask yourself where this insecurity comes from. Is it just a matter of jealousy or is there something deeper going on?

It's important to look at what's hidden, the things you might be pretending not to see. If you feel like you always need to appear perfect in the eyes of others, this may be stopping you from opening up to new friendships. No one is judging your character, but if you feel like you need to maintain a facade, this can be a significant barrier.

The final piece of advice is to examine your relationship honestly. Is it working for you? Does it need to be tweaked or maybe even finished? This is an answer you must find on your own. After this reflection, you will be in a better position to decide how to proceed.

That was the reading for you. Good luck and stay well.

(CC) Stupid Cupid Tarot Some Rights Reserved

#tarot readers of tumblr #tarotblr #tarot reading #divination #free reading

40 notes · View notes

r00kaline · 9 months ago

Text

Overwatch Smut Headcanons

Alright, I'm tired of seeing shit Overwatch smut headcanons so this is MY take on it. (These are random characters I know are liked by the fandom a lot, but let me know if you'd like to see anyone else.)

Jamison Fawkes/Junkrat:

-I don't think he has any nicknames for his partner in bed really, I'd think he just repeatedly calls you "babe" or "sheila" (an Australian term for girl).

-He is though pretty vocal, a lot of whining, moaning, throaty groaning, but not whimpers.

-He looses control easily when excited, so very often, his pace is frantic and very eager all the time, he gets carried away a lot.

-People don't seem to acknowledge that he is 6'5, so there would be a decent size difference between you and the junker.

-He probably talks a lot, constantly muttering something to himself or blabbering about how good you feel.

-He's very touchy, a visual learner dare I say actually.

Cole Cassidy/Cassidy:

-He's most likely going for your real name in bed if I am honest, though knowing southern people, maybe he will resort to nicknames such as "love" or "darlin" like the southern ass he is.

-He gropes a lot, regardless of the size where he gropes.

-Most likely has some sort of experience, so he would know what the hell he is doing while he's doing it.

-I'd like to think he is more of a giver, but only if you tell him or let him know how good he makes you feel.

-He is polite as we all know, so I believe he treats women with respect, even in bed.

Gabriel Reyes/Reaper:

-No offense to the guy, but he doesn't know much about sex at all, he is a 60 year old wraith who was tortured.

-Nonetheless, I think he takes more than gives, he likes getting head while he himself moves your head.

-As for a nickname, I'd say he calls you by your actual name, he doesn't strike me as somebody who's overly into nicknames/pet names whatsoever.

-He's definitely not the one to judge based on how you look in bed, again, he's 60 yo.

-Very basic with sex positions, I feel like he goes for more doggy or just a regular over the top classic.

Hanzo Shimada/Hanzo:

-He's a traditional Japanese man, so I have a feeling he's also quite basic in bed.

-He is however also a good giver, he likes to make sure his woman feels good.

-For sure a body worshipper.

-I think he's more on the vocal side, but not insanely loud like my boy Jamison.

-Definitely more for sex than for quickies like head or fingering and shit, come on now, he is a formal man, not a teenager.

Genji Shimada/Genji:

-A bit less traditional than Hanzo, he has some of his own kinks to add to it.

-Likes to mark, a lot, leaving hickeys mainly on spots that couldn't be spotted like under the breast (size doesn't matter you're all gorgeous), inner thighs, tramp, and back of the neck.

-Very good at dirty talking, but not in like a "who's my slut" kind of way, more in a "oh what a good fucking girl" kind of way.

-Very good at prep, he doesn't rush. Samurai, after all.

I ran out of ideas who can be next, let me know any other character you wanna see. Male or Female or Neither.

#overwatch #headcanon #headcannons #smut #overwatch2 #jamison fawkes #cole cassidy #gabriel reyes #hanzo shimada #genji shimada

67 notes · View notes

bones4thecats · 1 year ago

Note

Hi again! I've got an interesting idea for you today!

How would Record of Ragnarok Gods react having to fight/marry a widowmaker(overwatch) reader!

Widowmaker is a really interesting and tragic character in my opinion! She was a ballet dancer, before she was kidnapped and subjected her to an intense program of neural reconditioning, in effect creating a sleeper agent

Shortly after returning home, she killed her husband and vanished.

Widowmaker is the perfect assassin: a patient, ruthlessly efficient killer who shows neither emotion nor remorse. Widow's physiology was altered to improve her aim, drastically slowing her heart, which turned her skin cold and blue, and numbed her ability to experience human emotion. It dulled the pain of what she’d done, while heightening the charge she felt on the hunt.

How the gods react knowing she killed her first husband? How would they react to her title as the perfect assassin? How would they react knowing she can't feel emotion yet yearns to be loved and to be healed?

A/N: I have never played Overwatch, since I’m not that big on video games, so thanks for the description regarding her character! I also decided to do all Hindu Gods because they’re my favorite pantheon. Now, I hope this makes sense, enjoy~~

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🪩 Shiva met you through his wives, as they needed someone taken out, but they couldn’t just stroll up to random human and go, ‘Yeah, ur dead.’

🪩 After that hunt was successful, he had gotten more and more interested in you personally

🪩 It took a while, but you eventually took him as your husband and your blank stare was something he was determined to fix

🪩 He had no idea why your skin was blue, but he figured you were a possible demi-god, or like Kali, you just had blue skin like how he had purple

🪩 When you decided to tell him about everything, his reactions varied;

🪩 For the husband thing; He was kinda freaked out, but he knew you had changed and wouldn’t try hurting him

🪩 Title as the ‘Perfect Assassin’; Like mentioned, he already knew from his wives, so he just relaxed about that

🪩 And the way you yearn to feel things; Shiva was quite the romantic, so knowing you couldn’t show it, yet you wanted it so badly made his heart yearn for you more

🪩 Parvati, Durga, and Kali have been trying to get you to feel things again to the fullest, and they swore on it, with Shiva, they’d succeed

🪩 Oh yeah, and he loves dancing with you! It calms him down after a long day

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🔥 He had heard about you, but never met you until Shiva brought you into help scout a rogue God from another Pantheon that was said to try murdering any God that came near them

🔥 Agni looked at you as you nodded and he helped you take the God down, using his fire to burn the guy to crisp

🔥 You and him were a funny match

🔥 He was very warm while you were very cold, so resting with him was one of the best experiences you ever had

🔥 Unlike Shiva, he reactions a lot differently to each incident

🔥 Husband murder; Kinda scared of you, but he accepted it in the end, as it was the only way you guys could continue a healthy relationship

🔥 Title; It’s normal for important people to have big titles, like Shiva’s was the God of Destruction and Dance, which made people turn to look at him. So having you get a nickname that stood out didn’t shock him, in fact, it impressed him more than anything

🔥 Your yearning for closeness; Definitely has the same issue as you, he gets judged by the fire that envelops his body, and because of the flames, he doesn’t get that much physical affection, so he tried hugging you daily no matter what

●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・○・●・

🐘 He met you when he was picking flowers for his mothers and father

🐘 Ganesha was spacing out so badly that he didn’t notice a rogue God coming from behind to kill him, so when he heard the sound of a man burning alive, he jumped and saw you come down to finish the job

🐘 You scared him at first, but after getting to know each other, you guys were inseparable

🐘 The women and Shiva allow your relationship to thrive as long as you didn’t go berserk like you did with your last husband, which prompted you to tell him about your past;

🐘 Husband Murder; He won’t judge you for it, but seeing as your past gives you justification in his eyes, and he’ll defend your honor of that from anyone

🐘 Title; Shocked? Yes. He knew you were a good shot, but not that good! Not like he was doubting your ability, but it just made him go;

“ Holy Heaven, my wife is the best assassin in all Pantheons! “

🐘 Finally, the yearning for love; Definitely gives you what you want, he loves affection and nobody can change my mind.

🐘 He does enjoy watching you dance, sometimes joining in himself whenever you ask him too

92 notes · View notes

wildwinterlunas · 4 months ago

Text

My (hopefully) last complaint about Junkertown and the Junkers before my inevitable Re-write post

Junkers vs. MAD MAX

Alright I'm already on a roll with this and I've already committed myself to doing a rewrite of Junkertown and the Junkers, but I have one more thing to complain. That being the fact that they butcher the media they are referencing, that being Mad Max. For more context this is also coming form an Australian who has never watched these movies, this doesn't mean I didn't do my research, this is just to give context that I myself have never seen these movies.

If you don't know Mad Max is very much Australian media, written by, acted by, and taking place in Australia. Not only that but it very much relies on the world building of the fact that one, Australia is very isolated, and two, the rest of the world is like this. Something that Overwatch fails egregiously off the bat with considering that the rest of the world is not an apocalyptic wasteland and the fact that the thing that caused Junkertown and the radiation was an Omnium. You know, the thing that multiple countries had? There's also the fact that Junkrat and Roadhog are international criminals, how big Austraila is and the travel time between areas are never considered, it's exceedingly easy to leave the damn country (Junkrat and Roadhog again but also Hammond in his new short story). They want to be a Mad Max reference without actually considering the fact that the isolation inherent to Australia is important to Mad Max's setting.

There's also the fact that Mad Max relies heavily on visual story telling, Mad Max: Fury Road not even having a screenplay, it was fully laid out on storyboards. There's also the fact that Mad Max was not about the Australian experience but rather the human experience, this isn't a problem until you realize that every other characters references are very much biased off that characters origin. That or their place of origin is considered when writing them even if the reference for said character isn't from that country.

Another thing is that Mad Max communicates the brutality and disfunction of humanity, society has collapsed and we are left with the worst of it. The theming and messaging does not work with the rest of Overwatch's theming, it also doesn't make sense in universe considering that Overwatch was one, very environment focused, and two, was already sending forces to Australia to help with the consequences of radiation. Why did they let the Wasteland and Junkertown get so bad? Especially in the early Golden Age, and you can't say that it was because of the Junkers cause Overwatch have handled worse. Even before that point. We also have better examples of "the worst of humanity trope" with Talon, and they actually fit the story and world.

The theme they also completely miss in the soulless copy that is the Junkers is the individual connections and the theming or regaining humanity after great tragedy. In all honesty the best way they could have done this would have been to make Howl's rule itself the Mad Max Reference while Odessa's rule was the healing process from that, but no, they made her an overtaxing dictator instead. The gave the Junkers storyline the theme of desperation but no theme of hope, leaving it empty.

The only thing they unintentionally get right is that your environment doesn't necessarily change you, you do. Yes, a change of environment can assist in giving you space to make that change, but you are you no matter where you go. Junkrat and Roadhog don't change cause their out of Junkertown, they stay the exact same. Which is unfortunate because this is just due to them lacking any real depth in canon, an no, Junkrat actually being incredibly smart isn't character depth.

Back to the whole human connection thing, tell me, outside of fanon interpretation, out side of Junkrat's unreliable narration, outside of the interaction with characters he hasn't met in canon yet. Does anyone like Junkrat? Roadhog is there because Junkrat is paying him and because he seems board, the rest of Junkertown hates him, JQ especially. Roadhog doesn't seem to care about anyone, Junkerqueen's only true connection we see is with Hammond, and Hammond contiues to be my favoutite Junker by literally negating all the complaints about Junkertown I've had so far.

Honestly when I started looking at Junkertown lore I did not expect to be coming out saying that the fucking hamster was the best written character but here we are.

This is all also only referencing Mad Max: Fury Road by the way, which is probably what Junker Town is based off of considering its popularity and the time of release compared to Overwatch's. Honestly I might re-do this analysis/complaint if I ever watch the Mad Max series myself. Though I don't think my feelings will change of this, and that is the Junkers are an insult of a reference to MAD MAX. An empty copy at best. This is also coming from the person who often defends Overwatch's writing, I can't defend the Junkers, it's just bad writing.

#overwatch #overwatch 2 #overwatch lore #overwatch headcanons #analysis #junkertown #junkers

27 notes · View notes

pochipop · 1 year ago

Text

＃OVERWATCH !! ♡ — LION TAMING (MOIRA X READER).

#. synopsis! — here you are again. there she is. but at what cost? and just who has she become while she's been so far away? and worse yet, what happens if it just doesn't seem to matter?

#. characters! — moira .

#. warnings! — angst, explicit and substantial age gap, mentions of bodily wounds + war .

#. word count! — 4.4k .

#. others! — navigation & masterlist .

#. alt accounts! — @ddollipop (nsfw), @hhoneypop (moodboards) .

It’s been a long time since you last saw Moira, —before the fall of Overwatch, before the world divulged into more madness than anyone knew what to do with. It’s been years since you were taken off duty, but not a day has gone by that you haven’t felt like a soldier. Wherever you go, the memories linger, and they tie you down like cinder blocks always trapped around your feet. You’ve tried therapy and medications, yoga and meditation; even flew out to some tropical island unmarred by the vestiges of war for a while, only to find that it wasn’t a matter of where you were or what you were surrounding yourself with.

No, in the bitter end, the truth was that it was you.

You and your mountain of feelings that no psychologist could shave down, because you didn’t know where to begin. You and the itch that lingered during times of peace, because you yearned for conflict, even if you’d spent too much of your life now trying to snuff it out. You and your incessant inability to thrive without feeling like a time bomb.

Now, the scientist you first met when you were both younger and a bit less wise, stands before you. . . Or, above you anyway, leering down at your form, taking your face in as if she’s trying to recall where she knows you from. She’s as intimidating as ever, those sharp, dual-colored eyes and that scarily pointed stare directed right at you. Once upon a time, it felt nice to be the center of her attention. You were fresh faced and newly twenty one, and she was a few years over forty, though she didn’t look it. You stood with your back painfully straight, posture perfect, eyes directly ahead, and she’d seen right through all the training and the uniform you wore with such a stupid amount of pride.

Her tone is much the same as it was back then as she leans down now, crouching at your side.

“Long time no see, luch beag.”

You can’t help but scowl at the nickname. You never protested it before, content to be her precious, foolish little mouse when the barracks got too full for your liking and you’d shack up with her in the Overwatch laboratories. She’d go on and on about new discoveries and shimmering breakthroughs, —and you’d sit there on the edge of her desk, just listening and nodding along. Your skills were in reconnaissance, mostly, though you had an okay eye for sniping if it came down to the wire, and your close combat was acceptable in spite of its mediocrity. A few times, you’d even done espionage missions with varying degrees of success. All of that to say: Moira’s work was above your pay grade.

Still, you never minded giving her an audience. She was good at putting on a show, so endlessly enthusiastic about her work and all the ways she was bending the world around her. You wish she’d have been even half as enthusiastic about the way she wore you down.

“Talon?” You question, venom in your tone. “Really?”

You’re disappointed, but can’t say you’re surprised. Moira always had an uncanny ability to move through the world like it was hers to mold and snap and kiss just right under dim computer lights—

“Spare me the lecture,” she answers bluntly. “You’re hardly in any position to be passing judgement.”

Her eyes trail from your face to the wound you’re clutching on your abdomen. When the first of many explosions had gone off, you’d been separated from the rest of your group. It was some stupid vigilante sector working to take back control of Oasis. A pointless pipedream, and you knew it, but you needed the rush, needed to be out on the field again, working, doing something. Discharge had left you stir crazy, and you were done trying to find yourself in tattered self-help books that insisted drinking more water and spending more time with the friends you didn’t have would make you happy enough to leave this life behind you.

That was the problem, really. . . You didn’t want to leave it behind. You liked the adrenaline and the thrill of knowing your life was on the line, and even now, with some big chunk of metal embedded in your stomach, you enjoyed this. In some strange, twisted way, this was where you felt at home.

“You never did know when to quit,” she tells you, a smirk pulling at the edge of her lips.

“Oh, and you do?” You retort.

Her smirk fades, and you almost wish you hadn’t said that.

“I at the very least have a sense of self-preservation,” she answers plainly. “Something you still seem to lack. Severely.”

“Whatever, Moira,” you mutter, letting your tired head drop back onto the rubble behind you.

“Very mature,” she says, sarcasm dripping from her tongue.

Even now, a part of you wants to lick it off.

“On a scale of one to ten, how much pain are you in?”

You huff a little, staring up at the late evening sky. Stars have timidly begun to emerge from behind whisping clouds, and you’re reminded that this little unit you traveled here with couldn’t have cared less about you. They held no loyalty to you. You were expendable. . . And worst of all, you don’t even have the energy to be upset about it.

“Like a six,” you shrug.

You’ve definitely been through worse.

She raises a brow, reaching out to gently pull your hand away. The jostling, slight as it may be, makes you wince.

“Okay, Jesus, maybe a seven,” you correct, taking a sharp breath in.

The air is chilly against your skin, and especially so against the jagged gash in your clothing that gives way to the explosion’s cruel momento lodged in your skin. Moira’s nimble fingers gently explore the area, making use of whatever shreds of daylight are left. A sizable piece of metal is embedded in your stomach, roughly an inch above your belly button. The wound is angry and inflamed with dry blood crusting around the edges. She doesn’t ask how long you’ve been stuck here, and you’re trying not to think about it.

Moira sighs in both frustration and what you can only assume is concern. Maybe it’s all frustration and you’re just holding onto the past, —but either way, she looks toward your face again to speak.

“It’s obviously not fatal, but I can’t imagine it feels very nice,” she states.

“No, it feels like there’s metal in my stomach,” you answer sarcastically.

“Lovely to see your sense of humor hasn’t gotten any better since we last spoke,” she comments.

“Oh, so sorry,” you roll your eyes, “it’s just that if I laugh, I think this fucking thing might puncture one of my kidneys.”

“Small intestine would be more likely.”

You have to bite your lip to stop yourself from giggling, and once again you’d really like to think there’s something just short of fondness flashing in her eyes.

She moves with clinical precision, checking you over, trying to do as little damage as possible in the process.

“You always did have a knack for finding trouble,” she comments, tone a curious blend of amusement and camaraderie.

For a minute, it’s almost too easy to pretend like you’re still that young recruit seeking shelter from your training and the gossip of the barracks in her lab, or the corporal who snuck away to lie in her bed at night. Those were really the glory days, —when your life was always in the balance, hanging by a thread, waiting to be snapped by either an enemy bullet or a quick slice from one of Moira’s long, pointed nails.

“Trouble has a way of finding me,” you muse, offering a half-hearted shrug that sends a twinge of pain bursting through your abdomen.

You grimace, then find your voice again.

“I’m just trying to keep it entertained.”

She laughs, low and from the chest, shaking her head.

“You’ve certainly excelled at that,” she remarks.

There’s a brief silence as she continues to check you over, assessing the damage. As she so gracefully pointed out just a bit ago, it’s not fatal. It’s not deep enough to leave you bleeding out, —but it damn sure doesn’t feel nice. Aside from that, you’re no doctor, but you’re pretty certain a wound like this open in a war-torn city is just a recipe for utter disaster, especially given its placement.

“So then,” she muses, “how’d you get yourself in this position?”

“Take a wild guess,” you reply, gesturing to the blown up buildings and roadways around you.

“That much is obvious,” she answers. “I’m asking why you’re even here in the first place. You must know how dangerous this area is. I’d like to think you’re not naive enough to have been working with that ragtag bunch of so-called rebels.”

You frown. It’s hard not to when you know she’s right. You’re better than this, —better than putting your neck (and apparently your abdomen) on the line for people who would leave you behind without a second thought. Nobody came back for you. Either they all failed and were blown to pieces in record time, or they’d gone on without you and couldn’t have cared less about the person they left sifting through the wreckage to survive.

“We all make choices,” you mumble bitterly.

“Clearly. I just never pegged you as someone who’d make such a stupid one.”

You don’t answer.

“Did you really miss all of this so horribly? Enough to come out here, underprepared with a pack of morons who don’t have two braincells to rub together between them?” She questions.

“I needed something,” you snap a little. “I was losing my mind. Call me what you like, but I’d rather be here with this shit stuffed in my gut than be back home doing nothing. It doesn’t even matter what I’m fighting for anymore, just as long as it scratches the itch. I thought the chaos might give me some goddamn purpose, and I feel like you of all people should be able to understand that.”

She looks unimpressed by the reply.

“And now?” She presses. “Found your purpose, or just more chaos?”

You purse your lips into a tight line for a moment.

“Definitely more chaos, and not even the good kind,” you admit. “At this point, I’m less of a person and more of a walking disaster. Just a casualty of my own recklessness.”

Moira seems almost sympathetic as she regards you now, for whatever that’s worth coming from her.

“You’re not the first to fall for the high of it hook, line, and sinker, and you won’t be the last,” she says. “War has a dastardly way of distorting motivations. You’ve turned your personal desires into misguided ideals. But. . .” she pauses, offering you the slightest hint of a smile, “you’re still alive and breathing. That has to count for something.”

“Can’t say it feels like much right now,” you answer honestly. “Just look at me. A heartbeat away from strung out, left for dead by the same people I knew along would turn and run with their tails between their legs from the start. Some accomplishment.”

“Yes, well. . . I’m not sure I’m the right person to be offering you any comfort,” she stands to her full height again.

“I get it,” you reply. “You’re disappointed in the person I turned out to be. That makes two of us.”

Moira shakes her head.

“Let’s get you up.”

“Huh?” You utter, dumbfounded by the mere insinuation. “Up? Do I really look like I’m in any condition to be going anywhere?”

“Well I can’t very well kneel here and pull that thing out with my bare hands and no medical equipment, can I?” Moira questions in return.

“You could.”

“It would be foolish,” she states plainly. “In any case, will you be taking your chances here on your own, like this, or would you rather give yourself a fighting chance and come with me?”

“To where?”

“My laboratory,” she replies.

You’d have laughed if you’d been certain it wouldn’t drive that piece of metal into your small intestine.

“Talon gave you a laboratory?” You question. “And just what have you been up to for you to have worked your way into their good graces like that?”

“Nothing that proves to be of any concern to you,” she answers coldly.

Well then.

That’s certainly a far cry from the woman who used to enthusiastically usher you into her little realm in the late hours of the night to have you perch on the corner of her desk and listen as she rattled on and on about anything. It’s a far cry from the Moira who used to sneak her hands beneath your shirts just to feel the warmth of your skin beneath her palms.

“Are you coming with me, or would you prefer I leave you alone to lament in the rubble?”

The choice was easy. She helped you to your feet, let you lean on her slender (but surprisingly sturdy) shoulder, and by the skin of your teeth, you managed to make it back with her before that so-called seven rose to a ten. At the very least she had the decency to try and numb the area before carefully pulling the shrapnel from your gut and cleaning the unpleasant wound it left behind. You knew that look she wore on her pretty face and kept your mouth shut as she worked.

This new lab of hers is sterile, —a stark bit of contrast to the chaos outside. It’s hidden underground, but it was easy to forget that once you stepped inside with all the sharp, fluorescent lights that shone in the halls. The tech and machinery is wildly different to the type Overwatch had provided her with. You couldn’t be sure, but you were definitely willing to bet it was something close to state of the art. The air smells heavily of antiseptic now as she sits you up slowly, pausing when you wince as pain shoots through your abdomen.

Looking up at her now, there’s a clinical detachment that wasn’t there before, and you can’t say you like it.

Lost in the motions, she doesn’t seem to notice the way you stare, and you’re thankful for it. Her hands move with practiced precision, but you can’t shake the memories that have wriggled back up to swallow you whole, feasting like maggots on whatever rot she’s claimed inside you. You’re both different now, but this proximity, this touch, —her eyes raking over your skin. . . It all feels strangely familiar.

For the briefest of moments her eyes met yours, and you could almost swear you caught a glimpse of something beyond the stiff exterior she was presenting you with. Whether it was regret or desire, well, that was still up in the air. As quickly as it was there, it was gone, replaced by the mask of composure she chose to don like armor, even in your presence.

“Try not to move too much,” she murmurs, those nimble fingers adorned by prettily painted nails tracing the edges of your jagged injury as she wound bandages around your waist.

The contact was cold and dispassionate, but you couldn’t shake the lingering sense of intimacy that persisted, dancing between what was and what could have been. Maybe if she’d stayed a little longer after Overwatch fell, things wouldn’t have ended up like this. Maybe if you’d been less destroyed by the disbandment, had perked up earlier, —things would have been different. But here you are, Moira nursing you back to health again. . . And it feels nice. As nice as it can be to have a woman you loved once (and quite possibly still do, albeit differently now) taking metal from your gash and patching you up in the wake of it.

There was tension now between yourself and her that just didn’t feel quite right. You felt the weight of all the loose ends you never thought you’d have the opportunity to tie up, and it made the silence all the more palpable.

“Do you ever miss it?” You inquire, though you’re not sure if it was spurred more by curiosity or by the desire to put a cap on the quiet. “The time before Overwatch fell.”

She pauses, in the midst of winding some unused bandage wrap back around itself to store it away.

“You know my opinion on that organization quite well,” she answers markedly.

She’s right. You do. Overwatch had provided you with an outlet, had awoken something difficult to manage inside you, —but something they fed so deliciously everytime they sent you out into the field. For Moira, though, she felt they stunted scientific progress and refused to let her ideas thrive, skimping on resources for the research and experimentation teams. It wouldn’t be a stretch to say she loathed Overwatch, and you always knew she wasn’t sad to see it go.

“So no,” she adds. “I can’t say that I do.”

It’s probably not as personal as you’re taking it, but hearing her say that really throws a wrench in the whole ‘I think I’m still in love with you’ thing you’ve got going on.

“Still,” you say, voice cautiously casual, “do you ever think about it?”

In the time it took you to find the nerve to speak again, she’d finished wrapping the bandage and had begun reaching for the kit she claimed it from.

“Nostalgia is a luxury we can seldom afford in times like this,” she comments. “And I prefer my conversations more to the point. Just what is it you’re trying so hard to ask without asking?”

Her response leaves a bitter taste in your mouth. The time before was far from perfect, but it was such a delicate mix of pain and pleasure. Now, it just feels far too much like Moira is determined to bury both beneath the rubble of the present.

“Just. . .” you hesitate, feeling the words die in your throat the minute she meets your eyes.

You swallow their corpses like bile and try again.

“What we had. . . Did it mean anything to you?”

Oh, joy. Now you’re fairly certain that you’re just coming across like some lovesick little girl who never got over her first crush. It’s embarrassing enough to make your insides churn a little, although thankfully only in a metaphorical sense, because you’re pretty sure that would have hurt fairly badly on its own, and that pain would only be amplified by the wound on your stomach.

“What we had?” She echoes, one of her thin brows arching.

A part of you is almost expecting her to laugh at you, but she doesn’t.

“It served its purpose,” she shrugs, tone even.

“And that’s all?” You press, even though sirens are going off in your brain, begging you to reel the conversation back in or try to steer it in another direction entirely.

There just has to be something more beneath the surface.

“We both got what we needed, did we not?” Moira questions. “You got to rest your weary head on a warm body, and I had someone to speak with, —even someone to take some frustration out on. Nothing more, nothing less.”

What she said was true, but it still made your chest ache to hear it out loud.

“And now?”

“Now what?” She inquires.

“What’s our relationship now?”

Moira pauses, her gaze lingering on your face as if she’s weighing her options in real time. The sterile air of the lab seems to thicken with your anticipation, and you brace yourself for her reply.

“Now?” She muses, tone cool and detached. “We’re. . . Acquaintances, of a sort.”

“And that’s all?”

“That’s all.”

Acquaintances. It’s a word that feels more distant than the war-torn landscape outside, and it shreds your stupid little heart like it's been raked over a cheese grater. It fucking stings. A woman you used to run to seeking solace and what always felt like protection is now something less than even a friend. You’ve been reduced to some kind of footnote in her life story.

At this point, all your pride has gone out the window. Or, it would have done so if this place had any, but being underground, that wasn’t exactly a reasonable ask. Instead, it’s wilting in front of you like a discarded rose, shriveling up all the more when you decide to open your mouth again.

“Do you ever think about it? About me?”

Moira stills for a moment, as if the question caught her off guard.

“What’s there to think about?” She answered your question with one of her own.

“Us. What we had. How it felt.”

Silence lingers, stretching into uncomfortable territory before she finally fixes her tongue to say: “I try not to dwell on the past.”

She’s diplomatic, even in her evasivness.

“Dwell on me then,” you dare. “I’m here now, aren’t I? That’s hardly what I’d consider a thing of the past.”

She busies her hands with something on a table nearby.

“I try not to dwell on any one thing for too long,” she revises. “Lots of things require my attention. Stagnancy is hardly a luxury I can afford.”

You can’t help it that her vague replies make you well up in frustration,

“You can’t just pretend like it didn’t happen.”

“I could,” she states, letting her gaze rise to snag yours. “But I didn’t. I told you; what happened between us served its purpose. Now, it’s time to adapt and move forward.”

“Adapt and forget?” You challenge.

“Adapt and survive,” she corrects.

“Neither of us are exactly the type to just want to survive and leave it at that,” you remind her.

Moira drops the tool in her hand and looks at you pointedly. You flinch at the noise it makes as it clangs against the table.

“What exactly are you fishing for?” She questions, frustration seeping into her tone. “Some kind of senseless confirmation that you were more than just something familiar?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something like that,” you admit, and immediately a part of you wishes you hadn’t, and yet you continue. “Maybe I just wanna know that it meant something to you beyond serving a purpose.”

“You want to hear me say that I loved you.”

Your blood sort of runs cold, but you don’t bother to deny it. That is what you’ve been clawing for this whole conversation, —you just hadn’t expected her to put it so bluntly, even if that’s just within her nature. Still, there’s a vulnerability on her face that you hadn’t quite expected.

“Love. . . Love is a complicated word. It carries weight, and expectations, and a host of things we never explored. What we had was different. But in saying it’s different, I don’t diminish the significance. It’s a differentiation, but not one I feel matters more than the facts at hand. It was mutually beneficial, and I have a great deal of fondness for you as a result.”

“A deal great enough to think of me as an acquaintance,” you say.

“At the moment,” she states. “But in the past, which I’m still not keen to be dwelling on, —we were something more. I don’t let mere acquaintances sleep in my bed.”

“In the past,” you echo, seeming almost disenchanted by it all now.

“Things change,” she tells you. “You and I know that better than most. Circumstances evolve. I’m not negating or denying what we shared, —I’m telling you that the present demands a different perspective.”

That’s a hard pill to swallow, to say the least of it.

“So what now then?” You ask. “You stay here in this lab alone, and I go back out there? Maybe we cross paths every once in a blue moon, and we stay acquaintances forever?”

“If that’s what you need to give yourself some closure on the matter, then I suppose so,” Moira replies.

“I don’t need closure,” you tell her. “I don’t want it. What I want is. . .”

You pause. What exactly do you want? Something close to what you shared with her those few years ago? Something more, something less? Maybe it’s just that you miss the way she’d kiss you, because nobody has done it since then. Maybe you’re just touch starved and feening for the only woman who ever knew how to push all your buttons in all the right ways.

You swallow, steeling yourself to finish.

“What I want is you.”

Moira’s lips twitch into a small smile.

“You always were stubborn,” she notes.

“Only when it matters,” you reply, not bothering to bite back a grin.

“And you think it matters now?” She asks.

“I think it matters now more than ever,” you answer, tone earnest. “I miss what we had, Moira. I miss you.”

She studies you for a moment, as if she’s weighing the sincerity of your words. Finally, she breaks the silence.

“You do realize that things won’t be the same, correct?” She questions. “I don’t know where you’ve been or who you’ve become in the time we’ve spent apart. Not that I’m unwilling to learn, —just to say that it won’t be exactly how it was. Not now, not for quite a while, and perhaps maybe never.”

“I know things won’t be the same,” you confirm. “But maybe that’s not such a bad thing. Maybe this can be something better.”

Moira can’t deny that the possibility intrigues her. She loves a good hypothesis, after all. Her analytical mind seems to weigh the pros and cons, calculating the risks involved and the potential for something grander than what it once was at its inception. Something more than a stifled set of hookups and entangled nights. A hint of a smile graces her lips.

“I’m willing to take the risk if you are,” she concedes. “But I make no promises about the end result.”

You remove yourself from the table, feet hitting the cold floor of the lab, emboldened by the diluted pain and the urge to be closer to her now more than ever. She nearly opens her mouth to advise you to sit back down, but doesn’t in the end.

“I don’t need promises,” you insist, reaching out to take her hand. “I just need a chance.”

She smiles honestly, and it’s like watching all her sharp edges soften. Her free hand cups your cheek, cold to the touch even as it warms your heart. Her thumb caresses your skin gingerly as she leans down slightly, speaking softly.

“Granted.”

#moira #overwatch #moira x reader #moira o'deorain x reader #moira odeorain x reader #moira o'deorain #moira odeorain #moira overwatch #overwatch x reader #moira reader insert #moira x you #moira o'deorain reader insert #moira odeorain reader insert #moira x y/n #overwatch imagines #moira imagine #overwatch x you

133 notes · View notes