#moira o'deorain smut
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kiwi-on-ice · 3 months ago
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Favourite pictures of you headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Ramattra, and Lifeweaver with fem!reader
Word count: 700
Warnings: mixture of nsfw and fluff, mentions of sextapes
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Notes: Surprise! A small little treat before kinktober arrives and you all get sick of me posting.
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Ashe:
Lets get the horny thoughts out the way, she definitely has a few pictures of you that she keeps in the private folder of her phone.
Her favourite being a photo of you on your back against the silk sheets, hair messy and slightly sticking to your forehead. Your lingerie is half torn, bra pulled hastily down so your tits are spilling out, inner thighs parted and glistening with your arousal. But what Ashe loves the most; the red lipstick marks scattered all over your skin, painting you in beautiful salacious brushstrokes.
But she has more sfw ones too. Taped to her new motorcycle was a picture of you both, a candid shot from a bar when deadlock were celebrating a heist. Her arm was around your waist, keeping you pressed against her side. She was giving a smile to the camera, red lips illuminated, but you. Your eyes were firmly on her, gazing at her with such adoration, it gives her a fuzzy feeling in her chest whenever she sees it.
Moira:
she doesn't have a lot of photos period, she finds it unnecessary, society’s need to document everything. So the photos she does have are deemed important for her to keep.
Moira has exactly one photo of you in her lab, framed and away from any chemicals or corrosive materials. It's of the two of you at a scientific gala, her wearing a crisp suit and you wearing a form fitting dress that matched her. You’re holding on to her arm, nails gently pressing into the material of her sleeve, and she loves how relaxed your body looks against her.
You're the one who has more pictures, candids of her while she works. But when you introduced her to your polaroid camera, she's curious.
That's how she ends up with her other favourite picture, tucked away in her wallet. A polaroid of you on your back, her hand wrapped around your throat. Your neck and collarbones are littered with marks and bites, but its your eyes she loves. Despite her choking you, holding your life in her hand, your eyes are bright and excited as you gaze up past the polaroid at her.
Ramattra:
Omnics have photographic memories, incapable of forgetting something they've processed. Because of this, initially he makes fun of you humans and your petty memory cortexes, needing a physical copy to remember in detail.
It's only when you attempt to explain it, that it's not about forgetting but about remembering, of reminiscing, of the feeling the photo gives you, that he starts to understand just a little.
He demands to see your phone, to look at the many pictures you have of eachother, but one photo caught his eye. It's of you on his lap, or more specifically his thigh. The angle of the selfie only serves to exemplify the size difference, making you look so small and puny.
Printing it off, he keeps a small version of it on him at all times, gazing at it when he's alone.
Lifeweaver:
Oh this man is always taking pictures of you. Always.
His phone is always pointed at you, taking snaps of you, posed or candid. Now don't get me wrong, he's always taking pictures when you're dolled up for a date, capturing you in the best lighting to accentuate your dress and makeup. But he especially loves taking pictures of you in your pyjamas, sweatpants and a loose shirt, his hoodie underneath your messy hair. Anytime you look casual, he thinks you're the most beautiful woman on the planet.
His personal favourite of these is you watering a lily he'd bought you, wearing his hoodie that reached the middle of your thighs.
And when he actually bought a proper camera? The reels were just completely you (and the occasional flowers he likes to grow).
But god if you'd let him, he'd 100% be into recording a sextape. He just thinks you're so gorgeous, why would he not want to replay how you look in ecstasy over and over again.
Although his favourite is a teasing selfie you took while he was fucking you from behind. His hands are grasping at your tits, while you're giving a cheeky smile to the camera. He loves it so much he'd have it as is lock-screen if society didn't deem it so inappropriate.
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ddollipop · 2 years ago
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I DIG MY NAILS IN DYNAMITE. . . ! — ( MOIRA O'DEORAIN. )
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#. synopsis! — if moira’s going to be forced to work the clinic, she’s going to do things her way: no matter how unconventional her methods may be. (malicious fucking compliance) .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , lesbian smut, female on female, dirty talk , slight begging , implied age difference , slight power imbalance , subtle medical setting , oral sex , cunnilingus , fingering , dom!moira , sub!reader , nipple sucking , some wall action , one-sided stimulation , giving preference (moira) , slight praise , sex in the workplace , finger sucking , sort of revenge sex .
#. word count! — 5.1k .
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The clinical wing is hardly any of Moira’s responsibility. It wasn’t her idea, she had no intention of utilizing it herself, and the fact that she was being forced to work it alone for no less than ten hours a week was something akin to infuriating. If she didn’t already loathe Angela Ziegler and her fluffed up ideals about peace and prosperity, —she certainly did now. Because this was cutting into her time, and if there was one thing Moira couldn’t stand more than working with incompetent people: it was squandering her waking hours on fruitlessness. It was always the same things over and over and over again. You’d think a building full of well-educated men and women of science would have a better understanding of their own petty ailments by now, but no. . . 
Every slim bout of nausea, every headache onset, every tiny papercut, it seemed, was good enough a reason to come crying to her. And she’d had enough. It’s not to say that you were any more or less annoying than anyone else who’d stopped by that day, but there was something so nerve grinding about your presence, about the way you glanced around the white-walled exam room, that set Moira off.
“What’s wrong with you, exactly?” She questioned, —though it was painfully clear she was only asking out of obligation and was none too pleased to be doing so.
Her stern, uncaring expression almost had you forgetting the lie you’d cooked up while sitting there alone for a good ten minutes.
“I’ve got um. . . A headache and I’m feeling a little dizzy,” you reply.
She notices how uncertain you sound of it, and her eyes narrow at you, regarding you suspiciously.
“Is that a question or a statement?” She asks bluntly, mincing no words in the process.
“A statement,” you answer, tacking on a soft apology that she doesn't care enough about to acknowledge.
“How long has this been going on?” 
“A few hours, maybe.”
“Maybe?”
You’re really starting to wish you could just sink into the exam table and disappear. Even more than that, you’re cursing Doctor Ziegler for putting you up to this, —for deciding that you were just innocent looking enough to play a fools game with this woman before you. You’re certain now that the extra pay is hardly worth putting yourself through this just to see if Moira is really taking her position in the clinic seriously.
“A few hours,” you repeat, dropping the rest; but you know it’s already too late.
She’s annoyed with you. She’s sick of it here in this tiny room, and all she wants to do is put a stop to this ridiculousness and make use of her time her way. . . Which gets the cogs turning in her mind. If she has to be here, Moira’s going to make the most of it, —and what better way than to indulge herself in the sweetest little patient that’s set foot in here all day? It’ll be a bit before her clinic hours are up for now, and she’d much rather spend that time tying up some of her own loose ends than playing into Angela’s surprisingly spiteful hands.
“It’s a bit warm in here, no?” She says suddenly, straightening her back and standing to her full height as she shrugs off her lab coat.
“Uh. . . Yeah? A little, I guess,” you reply uncertainly, trying your best not to stare as she drapes the shed garment over the back of a chair and masterfully unbuttons the top of her white dress shirt.
The fabric is loose, and it sits against her pale skin like silken sheets atop a mattress. For all Moira is known for being: —cruel, sarcastic, brilliant, blunt— you can’t help but wonder why attractive doesn’t tend to make the shortlist. It’s far from the first time something like that has ever crossed your mind, of course, having worked in her vicinity for several months now, but it is the first time you’ve ever felt your insides twist themselves into pretzels at the sight of her.
She’s so tall, and even without the height, her personality alone commands the space she physically takes up. Moira is the kind of woman who doesn’t ask for what she desires, but simply demands it, and there’s something very stirring about that in a way you can’t quite seem to put your finger on.
“You guess, do you?” She raises an eyebrow, throwing you a blank glance.
Her hands come down to grip the edge of the exam table, the crinkly paper shuffling under the new pressure. She’s close enough now that you can feel her breath ghost against you, and somehow, her unchanging expression feels ten times more spine-tingling now that she’s less far away.
“Is there anything you’re certain of, y/n?” She questions, —and heaven help you, the way she says your name has your thighs itching to squeeze together where you sit.
“I-I. . .” You stutter pitifully, lost for words now that she's this close, eyes ghosting around her face, then around the room, just hoping to avoid her gaze.
“You. . .?” She prompts in a surprisingly gentle tone, removing one hand from the exam table to grab your face.
It's not a violent gesture, nor much of an unwelcome one, as her thumb sits on one cheek and four fingers press against the other. She steadies your head with the grasp, forcing the direction straight ahead, and your eyes naturally follow in suit. Moira can feel the way you swallow, watching as your throat moves to push the saliva down, and something akin to dangerous blossoms within her.
“You're a pretty girl,” she tells you. 
Somehow, the tone she uses when she says it makes it feel less like a compliment and more like a statement of fact.
“It's too bad you're such a quiet thing. I'm sure under the right circumstances, your voice is quite sweet.”
Anything you could have thought to say in reply seems to all but die on your tongue or lodge in your throat. A shiver creeps up your spine, tingling under your skin, scattering goosebumps all across your body.
“Do you have any idea how tiring this is?” She asks, standing to her full height again, clarifying quickly: “Working in this clinic? When I, of all people, should be doing something of actual substance. Forgive me if your headache isn't as interesting to me as my own endeavors, —but you must realize how pathetic it is to come crawling to me about something so minute.”
Finally, you work up the nerve to speak back again.
“I'm sure it must be frustrating,” you answer. “I'm sorry to have inconvenienced you, Doctor, I just. . .”
I didn't have much of a say in the matter. 
She sighs. 
“Did nobody ever teach you how to finish your sentences?” She asks, sounding rather incredulous. “Either out with it, or let me put your mouth to some proper use.”
You're not really sure what that's supposed to mean, but it's not as if you have much to say at the moment anyway. Anything you could have mustered up has gone out the window, drained like a pin-pricked egg.
A smirk tugs on her lips at your silence.
“Open,” she directs, a folded index finger sneaking under your chin and a thumb dragging your bottom lip down a bit.
In the moment, you hardly register the command, but somehow you manage to blink yourself back to reality fast enough to part your lips without her having to ask again. (Though asking wasn't really what she'd even done in the first place.) 
“Good,” Moira hums, appearing all too pleased with herself, “it seems you’re capable of following directions.”
Having acknowledged that much, she sneaks that thumb up, letting it pass your lips and nudge at your tongue, feeling the warm wetness of your mouth. You feel yourself burning up, and Moira presses in until the pointed middle knuckle of her thumb is barely ghosting below your cupid's bow.
“Close,” she demands, —and you do, suckling on the heat of her hand, eyes scaling up to her face.
She seems much too delighted by this, albeit in a subdued sense of the word. There’s always been an air of cockiness about her, but this really took the cake and ran with it, like she was so proud to have suckered you in even this deep. It’s then that you’re forced to question whether this is some kind of sick joke, or if she’s truly just that bored here in the clinical wing. It’s obviously not her favorite place to be, but doing all of this on the clock to make the time pass by faster is a little bit of a stretch, even for someone like her.
Moira glides her thumb to and fro, watching the way your lips move with her, still clasped around her digit so beautifully. She thinks to herself that you really are just such a pretty girl.
“Aren’t you just a sweet, obedient thing?” She muses, finally letting her lips curve upward completely.
You hum instinctively, and she can feel the vibration as it resonates from the back of your throat.
“Oh?” She cocks her head to the side, raising a single eyebrow, “was that meant to be defiant? Or perhaps just a correction, —that you’re only this malleable for me?”
She loves the way you look so dazed by every word she speaks, like you’re trying to interpret a foreign language. You’re so mystified by her very presence this close up, as if you can’t decide if she’s real or not.
Eventually, Moira decides she’s had enough and utters “open” again, to which you comply quickly, letting her thumb make its way out from between your lips. Ever the inquisitive woman, she rubs her thumb against her index finger, tapping them together, letting your leftover saliva string between them.
“Y/n,” she murmurs, turning that duel-colored stare directly on you so intently, “—don’t play so coy. There comes a time when every woman must stop begging for the things she desires, and I’m tired of your eyes begging for what your mouth refuses to ask of me.”
Your lips part now, brain convinced you have a solid idea of what you’re supposed to be requesting of her. Though your head is still swimming and a part of you just knows you’re better off leaving things here, as they are, you’re only human. . . So you let your shaky hands come up to grasp at the fabric of her partially unbuttoned shirt, and you pull her inward, not once, but twice, until her face is so close to yours that you’re practically sharing the same breath.
There’s a pause when you don’t make the final move to kiss her, half expecting that she’d have taken over by now, but she offers a low chuckle and snakes a hand up her torso, grasping at your own. It’s gentle for a moment —but only for a moment— before she forces your grip away in a single motion, the other hand wrapping around your free wrist, and pinning either of your hands down against the examination table.
“Go on,” she presses, “stop being so polite. Take what it is we both know you want. Do lions ask nicely before they tear their prey apart?”
You wonder which one you’re supposed to be in this scenario, —the lion or the prey. With the way she’s staring at you, you get the feeling it’s the latter. . .
Closer, closer, you lean, until Moira’s mouth is barely touching your own in a sort of off-handed, almost kiss that isn’t quite coming to fruition. Your neck is craned as far as your body will allow, and you feel the little tuft of amused breath that passes her nostrils ghost against your skin.
“You really are just incredibly novel, did you know that?” She asks, pressure increasing on your pinned down wrists as she finally goes in for the kill.
Her lips are surprisingly soft, and slightly sticky from the remnants of her off-orange lipstick. Even the way she kisses you commands a certain level of respect, and you hope to honor that by keeping up, letting your body react naturally to any and all of her ministrations. When her tongue slips into your mouth, you hardly startle at the feeling, letting her lick and taste as she pleases. The way she does so is like she can’t get enough, —and it crosses your mind very briefly that you may be the first person she’s come on to in quite a while.
Her job is demanding, and overwhelmingly isolating, after all. ..
Having stained your lips enough, both with her bruising kisses and the tangerine-ajacent cosmetics on her mouth, she pulls away for the briefest of moments, only to descend upon your neck like it was glazen with sugar. You can’t help the little gasp that escapes you, or the soft moan that follows, —or the way your hand reaches up to bury the fingers in those fiery strands of hair now that hers are no longer pinning yours down.
“Moira,” you hiss lightly, “—ah.”
Under any other circumstances, you’d have never uttered her name so plainly in lieu of her title, but with the way she was wearing you thin and prying you open with such apparent ease, you doubted she’d care much if you stepped over a line previously drawn in the sand. As far as you could tell, you were already lost at sea anyhow. 
It’s not much of anything, but you feel her smirk against your skin, then murmur: “She does speak.”
You’re on fire, inside and out, burning up so badly you fear there’ll be nothing left but ashes by the time she’s finished with you. Silently, you think it might be best for you to put a stop to this before it ends up going too far; before each of you are drowning so deep there’s no way to break the surface. Your lips part, ready to put an end to it all, —knowing you should. . . But you can’t. Not when she looks you over like you really are just her prey for the taking, for the feasting, the devouring.
“Darling,” she murmurs, tracing the back of her finger down your cheek, caressing you softly, “don’t be so shy. Learn to take what you want without pleading.”
Even then, it’s less of a suggestion and more of a subtle demand.
“I—” you start, but swallow just as quickly.
Sucking in a breath, you let your hands do the talking, gracing the flushed skin of her neck, then ghosting just above her sharp collar bones that peak out from her unbuttoned blouse. Before you have the wherewithal to tell yourself to stop, your shaky fingers begin fiddling with the rest of the clasps, going further down until you see the top of her bra (a simple, black garment, in true Moira fashion.) There’s something so stunning about the way colors lie against her, as if melding into her flesh, bending to her will.
She doesn’t stop you from unfastening the buttons, revealing more of her as you continue downward. She’s got no complaints to utter, no reservations present in her body language, and she sheds the top entirely when the last one has come undone. Moira takes a step back, tossing her shirt onto the small countertop, one of the sleeves dangling over into the sink. You take her fleeting absence from your body as an opportunity to admire her, —the sharp, almost jagged edges she carries around like swords. She’s so tall and slender, so striking in the way she moves as if everything is calculated and she doesn’t doubt for a moment that the world is ready to mold to her every wish and whim.
“Something to say?” She cocks a brow, tone smooth and almost melodic, that hint of an Irish accent clinging to every word.
Your mouth still feels dry, but you force yourself to say what’s on your mind, —even at the risk of coming across like some lovesick schoolgirl.
“I just think you’re pretty,” you answer.
Her lips quirk into another smirk at the compliment, and she runs a hand through her hair, letting you admire the motion.
“That’s very kind of you to say,” she replies.
It didn’t feel kind when you said it, really. . . It just felt true.
“Come,” she beckons, coaxing you off the exam table and closer to the wall, pressing your back against it.
It’s cold to the touch, but it does little to quench the fire still roaring in your guts. What’s more, you’re not entirely sure you want it to stop now anyway. From the corner of your eye, you can see one of Moira’s lengthy arms reach out to tap the middle of the doorknob with a long-nailed finger, popping the lock into place. You assume that signifies a sealed deal of sorts. . . That there’s no going back now; and heaven knows you’re not trying to.
Moira’s hands find their way to your waist, pressing firmly for a bit as she kisses you again; albeit somewhat slower and more intimately than before. It feels more like the kind of kiss you’d give a lover to show affection than one you’d throw at a midday fling. There’s little time to dwell on the thought, however, as she snakes herself between your thighs, dancing over the fabric of your dress pants.
Your breathing hitches a little at the feeling, your skin heating up, and Moira grins to herself before letting her fingers trail upward and curl inward, grabbing at your sweater. Untucking it from your pants, the elder woman pulls it up, looks to you for approval, then finishes the job as she yanks it over your head and tosses it back onto the examination table. The crinkly paper shuffles for a moment, and the sound is almost thunderous over the duet of breaths and heartbeats across the room.
She murmurs something about how lovely you are that you don’t quite catch, —but the real compliment comes from the way her eyes trace across your body, soaking up every inch so earnestly.
When you reach behind her slim back, fiddling with the clasp of her bra, she gives a hum of amusement.
“Eager one, aren’t you?” She asks, voice dripping with the only kind of condescension that tastes so sweet.
“I can’t help it,” you breathe quickly, almost in embarrassment, but still lacking the humility it would have otherwise carried.
You manage to tear the clasp open and the straps on her shoulders slump off. Moira readily tugs them down and sheds the last garment on her upper half, letting your eyes rake over the slight curve of her breasts. They’re not large by any means, but they suit her body so nicely, sitting perfectly on her chest with pinkish nipples you can’t help but think about clasping your mouth around.
She seems pleasantly surprised when you make the first move to do just that, even placing a long-nailed hand on the back of your head, guiding you to her body. As you offer a lick to the left one with the flat of your saliva-laden tongue, she lets out a soft breath, stroking your hair softly as if to encourage you to keep going. You do as she silently asks, parting your lips again and taking her in your mouth, suckling on one, then giving the same attention to the other. She seems to like the way you swirl your tongue, so you do it again, and again, and again, until Moira decides that this just isn’t suiting her fancy any longer.
“Good girl,” she mumbles, even when she’s pushing you away and tugging your bra off with ease.
This time, she doesn’t bother tossing the article of clothing onto the exam table behind her, she simply lets it hit the ground to join her own. Thankfully, the sanitation of the labs, and subsequently the clinical wing, has always been solid as can be.
With a clawed hand, she covers your mouth and keeps your head pinned back against the wall, ducking down to repay the favor. She takes her time reaching your breasts, but it’s hard to mind when she’s busy sucking love bites in a trail down your neck and upper chest. She bites your shoulder, feels you moan against her palm, then does it again to draw the sound from your throat once more.
When she finally takes a single nipple between her teeth, the sensation alone has you seeing stars. Her mouth is so wet and warm, so surprisingly inviting, and she’s so skilled with every little flick. Her free hand works what her mouth doesn’t, careful not to scratch or jab you with her nails. She stays attached for much longer than she allowed you to be, and it crosses your mind that Moira may not be much into the whole receiving end of things. Whatever the case, she looks too pretty like this, with her mouth leaving the rest of her faint lipstick around your nipples and on the column of your neck, for you to think too much of it (or be disappointed by it.)
You really couldn’t tell if all this passion and fervor was born of spite against Angela for setting this clinic up in the first place and making Moira work in it, the general frustration of being away from her own endeavors for so long today, the pent up ardor releasing after a dry spell, —or maybe some mixture of all of that and then some. Whatever the case, Moira wasn’t skimping on a single detail, and you were going to be the last person on the face of the planet to complain about that.
As she unbuttoned your pants and began to tug them down, allowing them to cling around your thighs, you were quick to take over and shed your own clothing at her silent demand. You were thankful you’d worn open-toed heels that day, knowing it wouldn’t have been as sexy if you’d had to have taken the time to slip your socks off during this little process. Moira doesn’t make any moves to mimic you, instead resigning herself to watching and holding herself back from touching.
When everything’s shed, you unconsciously cover yourself with your arms a bit, not necessarily to hide away from her gaze, but out of little more than whatever few shreds of humility you have left.
“Don’t be bashful,” she says firmly, grasping each of your wrists and planting your arms at your sides.
The transition back to the table feels like a blur, —a rush of so much at once that your mind goes a little foggy and the sound of that damn crinkly paper being pushed back to the top, along with the stray clothes, hardly registers above the ache in your core and the coolness of the floor beneath your bare feet. She instructs you to sit, and you do, and when she tells you to come closer to the edge and spread your legs, you do that as well.
“You’re so obedient,” she comments with a half-smile, trailing a finger down the barren skin of your inner thigh, sending shivers across your skin. “We could use more employees like you around here.”
A part of you can’t help but hope, in the moment, that those people never come around, that they never land positions in the lab, just so this endeavor can be your burden to carry alone. This side of Moira is still intimidating, but there’s a softness to be found in the way she looks at you, the way she mumbles little compliments against your skin, —the way she treats you like you’re made of something fragile.
She parts your lips with two of her long fingers, taking a moment to admire the way arousal has slicked your folds up so beautifully. It’s been a while since she’s seen firsthand the impact she can have on a woman, and your wetness strokes her ego more than it probably should have.
The moment the flat of her tongue pressed against you, your toes curled inward and your head fell back, a few breathy moans making your chest stutter. Through half-lidded eyes, you could only watch in bliss as Moira glanced up at you, her mouth suctioned around your needy little cunt, feeling every twitch and licking up every bit of juice.
“Oh my God,” you huff, reaching forward with one hand to grasp at Moira’s hair.
She seems to like the way you vocalize, and the way you grab at her like it’s something natural, even when it really isn’t. Her tongue works in circles, then lines, then a million other shapes and directions in a single moment, and you feel your body quiver from the tension.
A part of you feels pathetic, but it really can’t be helped that she’s already pushed you to the edge. Weeks of work had given you little time to yourself, and what time you had managed had been spent sleeping, eating, or trying to catch up on things you enjoyed in your personal life. Taking care of your more intimate needs just hadn’t really entered the equation as of late, but now all of that build-up was really showing its true colors (and so quickly at that.)
“I—” you suck in a breath, “I’m gonna cum—”
And she reaches around from the top, her arm hooked under your left thigh, pressing the pad of her thumb ever so carefully against your swollen clit.
You toss your head back and bite your lip nearly hard enough to draw blood. Your free hand grasps for one of your breasts, pinching a nipple between your fingers, letting her drive that stake in so fucking deep that you can feel your insides melting away into ecstasy. Her thumb massaging your clit, her tongue swirling around just below, and the utter depravity of having sex with your boss’s most disgruntled co-worker leaves you cumming on her face, muscles releasing all their tension and melding away into this fantasy world with her.
Oh, but she’s not done, —because of course she’s not. The quiver in your thighs isn’t steady enough, and she hasn’t felt you clench around her fingers, hasn’t felt you tug on her hair hard enough to rip some of the strands from her scalp, hasn’t quite had her fill of you just yet.
Moira brings her hand to her mouth, tearing the middle two nails off with her teeth and spitting them onto the ground beside the examination table. That’s probably a lot hotter than it should be right now, but there’s something about the way she tugs them off so effortlessly, grasping them between her canines, that has your core sopping at the sight of it.
“Just lay back,” she requests.
You do, without question, and you hear her offer up a low chuckle that resonates from the back of her throat.
“You’d just do anything I asked of you, wouldn’t you?” She asks, amusement clinging to every word.
“Yeah, probably,” you reply breathily, —and perhaps a bit too honestly.
But she likes that.
Moira pushes your thighs apart like they’re less so parts of your body and more so obstacles getting in the way of what she wants. She stands to her full height for a moment or two, but her back curves downward and she lowers herself over top of you as she flips her hand palm-side up and sinks those two de-nailed fingers inside your cunt. Your accumulated wetness allows for such an easy entrance, and she pauses for a moment at the hilt of her hand to relish in the way your walls thrub around her digits, almost pulsating, begging for more.
If there’s ever been something Moira has been happy to comply with, —it was this. She lets you adjust, but just barely so, and then pulls back a bit, letting the friction elicit a few soft moans from you.
“Fuck,” you whimper, eyes rolling back a bit, cunt clenching around Moira’s lengthy fingers, the ones she knows how to work so well inside you.
It once again seems like every move she makes is calculated and precise, evoking something so primal inside you, unleashing some kind of desirous beast that just can’t get enough of her.
And there you are on this uncomfortable exam table in this God forsaken clinical wing that neither you nor Moira have ever been very fond of, bare back pressed against the weirdly textured leather, dripping and convulsing around the lecherous fingers of the same woman you’ve heard nothing but complaints about from your boss since you first began working under her. You’re sure that if Doctor Ziegler could see you now, she’d have you fired on the spot, —and something about that makes this so much fucking hotter.
You’re whimpering at every touch, so vulnerable for her eyes only. She prods at every inch of your insides she can touch, moving her fingers in time with every little noise that’s ripped from your throat, leaving you moaning like a slut in heat; and the cycle continues until your body has just had more than enough.
“Moira, I—” a breath cuts you off, nails scraping against that odd-feeling leather beneath you. “Please don’t stop, please don’t stop, holy shit—”
She doesn’t stop. She wouldn’t even dream of it when you’re begging like that, when the pretty pussy she’s hammering out with two fingers is just begging for every ounce of her desire and attention.
The knot inside you unravels, and she basks in the way you spasm around her digits, back arching up off the table. Moira lets you ride it out before slipping out, drawing a few lines up and down your glistening slit before pulling her hand away and reaching for the paper towl dispenser that hangs on the wall. She pats her hand dry and silently collects the clothes strewn about the room.
It takes a moment for you to get your bearings, but you manage to redress without making a fool of yourself.
“A word of advice,” Moira finally speaks, “you’re a good time, and I’m sure an adaquate employee, —but acting isn’t much your forte. Next time Angela sends you here to spy on me, spare me the pleasantries and let’s just skip to the good part.”
You can feel your ears burning, but you force a nod anyway.
“Yes, Doctor.”
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letternotekisses · 2 months ago
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Hngg I need more assistant reader, the way you write is so scrumptious. I’m curious how akande would share her with moira, since moira is so work oriented and ‘professional’ so to speak.
Moira is definitely slower to approach the whole ordeal in general - much like Amelie. She’s very much consumed within her work to even think about your presence. Akande introduces you with small tasks - picking up documents from Moira’s lab or sending you to check up on her progress rather than himself. It’s a slow start, but steadily Moira becomes accustomed to your presence.
At first she’s tolerant. Much like how she is with everyone else - she’s happy to make you squirm with empty promises of experimentation or wave you off with a cold disposition. But your presence while she works steadily becomes more frequent - and even whilst her attention is monopolised Moira finds herself responding in kind to your innocent and curious questions. You know next to nothing about her projects or her work in general, yet she’s patient and thorough in her explanations.
Eventually she becomes more intrigued with you to the point where she starts preparing for your visits, because she knows you like to loiter a little longer then you should when Akande sends you. Your body doubling sometimes actually expedites her work on occasion - so it never really bothers him that much.
Moira has eyes like a hawk, and if you’re swept off your feet with annoying requests from the Talon grunts who think they can pester you into doing menial tasks for them, she’s quick to draw a chair out for you and bundle some snacks and drinks into your lap. You playfully tell her she’s warming up to you. She insists it’s nonsense and that you can’t do your job properly if you pass out.
But she never eats the snacks tucked away, nor does she take a drink from the mini fridge for herself. Why would she? They’re for you.
And that’s exactly when she realises she’s been snared. But Moira isn’t upset at it - you’re of no hindrance to her work - so she allows herself to enjoy your company. (And technically shared ownership of a previous lab rabbit named Lucky. If you know, you know)
You don’t help yourself by consistently bringing her a coffee and a neatly decorated cake in the early mornings, dipping your pinkie finger into the cream to steal a taste right out from under her nose. You always drape yourself over her desk just right, nosying in her work while she’s nosying down your shirt.
You’re raising her sugar levels and her blood pressure all at once. And she’s absolutely convinced you’ll be the death of her.
So when you’re then bent over said desk, tight skirt hiked up your thighs so she can rip a ladder in your tights when she tugs them down, neatly manicured nails (the colour she let you pick out) digging into the fat of your hips as she traces her tongue over your needy pussy through the pretty purple panties she’s convinced you wore for her - how on Earth can you blame her?
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uunromanticized · 1 year ago
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like lovers do | moira nsfw headcanons
𝒔𝒐 𝒉𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒐𝒏 𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒊𝒍 𝒊𝒕’𝒔 𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓.
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cw: overstim, edging, safewords mentioned, degrading, praise, hand kink mention
authors notes: ermmm. first nsfw post ever. okay. minors do not interact or ill krill u. mutuals from anywhere else you never saw this. anyways this is entirely self indulgent. i like moira. she has nice hands.
moira who doesn’t have much of a sex drive, but just adores seeing how you look while trembling underneath her
moira who knows every sweet spot of your body to a t, who’s constantly poking and prodding and kissing them
moira who also knows what every little reaction you make means. she’s just so observant, especially whenever it comes to you.
moira who punishes you in one of two ways; constant edging, never letting up until your pretty tears fall down your face only to ruin your orgasm anyways. or, constant overstimulation; she will never let up even when you’re a mess. you asked for it from her, after all. she’s just giving you what you wanted.
moira who absolutely loves breaking you down and then building you back up again. constant degrading. you will never feel unloved, though, because she’s sure to sprinkle in just enough praise.
moira who puts just as much trust in you as you do her. you’re both eachothers, after all.
moira who stops the second you respond in a different way than usual to ask if you need to use your safeword
moira who knows you have a thing for her hands, purposefully keeps them out of view occasionally just to see how you’ll react. other times, she’s shoving her fingers into your mouth
moira who constantly makes you act as a pillow princess. she doesn’t let you do the work, it’s always her, especially whenever her strap is inches deep in you.
moira who loves leaving bruises from her nail marks on your hips
moira who loves the feeling of your hands desperately gripping onto her
moira who knows you both love eachother unconditionally as the night comes to a close
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marsbar17 · 2 months ago
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Wanna give us a nice lil Halloween one shot? Perhaps Moicy? Some kinky Halloween sex perchance? đŸ€­
I rushed so much to finish this for Halloween fbsbvhjsbf AND I DIDNT MAKE IT
But anyways, I rushed this and I have a headache now and it's not even good but hush, you're getting fed and you're gonna like it >:(
Mercy x Moira Halloween Oneshot
Contains: witch mercy, lilith moira, NSFW, barely any foreplay, size kink??? Maybe??, witchcraft ooOoOo
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
This time, it had to work.
Angela sat on her knees in her living room, the wooden floor boards digging into her shins even through her tights. She drew the summoning circle with a small stick of charcoal, moving with grace and perfection after having done it almost a hundred times before.
The witch was so focused on her task that she almost yelled in surprise as she felt something touch the top of her head. Angela turned around in a panic, just to sigh in relief when the only person she saw was her friend and fellow witch, Kiriko.
"You forgot your hat at my place." Kiriko giggled at Angela's surprise, peering over her shoulder at the mostly completed summoning circle. "You're still trying to summon her? It's been eight months, Angela."
"I know, but I think I have finally perfected the summoning ritual! Plus, today being Samhain will make this the most ideal time to do the ritual." Even though it had been so long without any luck, Angela still felt hopeful looking at her notes that had been scribbled out and rewritten too many times.
"Today is the day. Lady Fareeha will appear before me." Angela smiled, drawing the last stroke to finish her circle.
"Personally, I don't think a Gaelic holiday is the 'most ideal' day to summon an Egyptian God, but whatever you say." Kiriko's eyes were full of doubt as she turned back towards Angela's front door. "Have fun."
Angela was alone once more, humming to herself as she lit the candles along with the sticks of incense that she had adorning the summoning circle. As the heavy amber and cedar scented smoke filled the room, she could practically feel the strong energy in the air.
Opening a sealed jar, Angela grabbed a handful of dried rose petals and spread them over the area. With the physical part of the ritual done, she stood up with her spell book in hand, looking over the neatly written incantation she had worked so hard on.
The summoning circle was easy, she had gotten it perfect within a month. The only reason it had taken so long to get to this point was due to this stupid incantation. Even one mispronounced syllable would ruin the whole ritual. So only after many hours of research and countless attempts, did Mercy finally believe she had gotten it right.
With her spell book in one hand and a long ivory wand in the other, Angela closed her eyes and began to recite the incantation she had worked so hard on. The words had been practiced so many times so that she could feel the sentences in her soul. She could feel the energy flowing around her, her hair whipping in the sudden wind.
As the incantation finished, Angela opened her eyes and watched as the rose petals tumbled around the circle and the candle flames swayed back and forth.
"It is... working! It's working! Hah!" She smiled, embracing the magic flowing through her living room as it became more intense. The wind whipped harder, threatening to blow out the candles, and she had to hold her hat in order to keep it on her head.
Just as Angela felt it was becoming to much, as her pictures and jars started shifting on the shelves and her hat was ripped from her head, everything went dark.
The candles had been blown out, along with every lamp in Angela's small cabin. Fear overtook Angela and she swallowed hard, wondering whether she should call out to whatever she had summoned. She didn't need to though, as the being spoke first.
"Oh dear, you're shaking~"
That wasn't her voice. Something went wrong.
Realizing this, Angela quickly lit a small flame in the palm of her hand in order to see. The being in front of her was tall, so much taller than she expected. The fabric of her clothing was black, the skirt and sleeves were long and majestic. Bringing her eyes higher up, Angela could see that her corset was adorned in gold scale-like adornments and her neck was too. The being's face was pale, but her eyes were surrounded by dark eyeshadow. One eye was a dark blue while the other was a piercing silver, and her pupils were slits. She had five long horns emerging from the top of her head, curling gracefully in a way that framed her face perfectly.
"You... You aren't Lady Fareeha." Angela whispered nervously, those sharp eyes following her every move. The demon rolled her eyes, scoffing in annoyance.
"No, I am not. You, like many many others before you, have mistaken my summoning ritual for the one of that wretched God." The more the demon spoke, the clearer Angela could hear her Irish accent. Feeling absolutely defeated, she sighed and lowered herself back down to the floor.
"So then... you would be?" Angela asked, holding her head in her hands and rubbing her temples.
"Lady Moira." The demon spoke, now towering over Angela's shrunken form.
"Well, Lady Moira. I sincerely apologize for wasting your time-"
"You haven't wasted my time." Moira interrupted, stepping closer to Angela and leaning down. "After all, the night has only just begun."
Angela brought her head up to meet Moira's eyes, feeling fearful once again. She was oddly beautiful up close, and Angela could see that it wasn't bloodlust in her eyes, but a certain mischievous look instead.
"What do you mean?" She asked, her voice small and timid.
"Well, I am the demon of lust and pleasure." Moira leaned in even closer, holding Angela's jaw with one pale hand. "And you, my dear, are an absolutely stunning woman. How about a deal?" Moira drew her hand back and stepped away, walking back into the summoning circle on the floor. "I forget about how you interrupted my day off, so long as you let me absolutely ravish you. Or we could just to the basic 'give me something you deeply cherish' thing, but this will be a lot more fun for us both."
Surprised and flustered, Angela looked away. Having sex with a demon? That was not the plan at all. But did she really have anything better to do? Moira was hot, painfully hot, and maybe she could distract Angela from the disappointment of her failure to summon Lady Fareeha. After an embarrassingly short amount of time, Angela looked back up at the demon standing in her living room.
"I'll take your offer."
"My my, that took you no time at all. Eager, darling?" A smirk appears on Moira's face as she sauntered back over to Angela, reaching out and pulling her to her feet.
"No! I mean... maybe. Look I just- I need- ugh!"
"No need to explain, pet. Just let me make you feel good." Moira backed Angela up until she was pressed against an empty wall before slipping her arms under the witch's thighs and hoisting her into the air. Angela's crotch was at face level for the demon who used that to her advantage and bit into her tights and panties, pulling her head back to rip a hole in them both. She groaned at the sight of Angela's glistening lips and twitching hole.
Angela gasped, hands flying to grasp at the horns on Moira's head before she realized that might be disrespectful and pulled them back to her sides.
"You can grab them. I don't mind, my dear." Moira's voice was so smooth and sensual that Angela couldn't help but obey, placing her hands gently back onto Moira's horns and biting her lip. Moira's hot breath fanning out against her most sensitive parts made her whimper quietly.
After a few more moments of simply admiring the witch laid out before her, Moira leaned in and placed a soft kiss against Angela's clit, making the witch squirm. She looked down to watch Moira place a couple more kisses before opening her mouth to show off her unusually long, forked tongue that was shiny with saliva. If Angela wasn't wet before, she sure was now.
"I can't wait to hear you scream, pet." Moira smirked before licking a long stripe all the way from Angela's wet hole to the tip of her clit. Angela moaned and tightened her grip on the other's horns.
Moira ate her out like she was desperate, like she couldn't live without the taste of Angela's lips. It was messy, with drool and slick dripping down Moira's chin and nails pressed into Angela's thighs. It was so much all at once and Angela couldn't stop moaning and whimpering, and she swore this was way better than anything Lady Fareeha could've given her.
"Moira! It's so much~" Angela moaned lewdly, squirming and panting like her breath had been stolen. She could feel every movement of Moira's tongue inside of her and every once in a while it slid up to circle her clit, making her whine. She could feel the heat in her core getting more intense, and she couldn't believe that her orgasm was approaching this fast. All the sensations all at once, Moira's impossibly skillful tongue, her hands gripping Angela's thighs, it was too much for her to handle.
"I need- Moira I can't. I'm gonna~"
"Cum for me, darling."
Angela fell apart, eyes rolled back, knuckles white, mouth agape, the sweetest sounds falling from her lips. Moira drank her all in, pleasing her through her orgasm and even after she finished. She lapped lazily at the witches hole, causing Angela to twitch with aftershocks. Eventually Moira pulled away, letting Angela relax as she was slowly lowered down until they were face to face once again, but her feet weren't on the floor.
Moira used one hand to hold Angela up while she shifted her skirt with the other, exposing her crotch to the air. She had a neatly kept bush hiding her from Angela's eyes, but that didn't stop the witch from yearning to taste her.
"Not today, my sweet. I will have you on your knees for me next time." Moira teased, as if she had read Angela's mind. Not even thinking about the fact that she had said "next time," Angela just whined and ground her hips forward, trying to get any friction she could. Moira simply laughed, grinding her own hips forward too.
Angela's eyes widened as she felt something press against her thigh and she looked down to see a black colored, silicone strap on between Moira's legs. She was even more surprised to see that it was one she recognized from her bedside drawer.
"How did you...?"
"Magic, now hush." Moira simply smiled, reaching her hand down to position the plastic object at Angela's entrance.
"W-wait! It's too big! I haven't been prepared-"
"Oh darling, you can take it~"
Angela could feel the head of the strap enter her and she bit back a yell at the intrusion. The stretch stung, but Moira's lips caressing her neck made it all go away. Moira placed open mouth kisses all along her neck and jaw, sucking on the skin occasionally to leave marks. It melted Angela's mind and made her even wetter around the silicone inside her.
As Moira started pushing further inside of her, Angela whimpered and clutched at the demon's shoulders. Her lips were covered and her moans were stifled by Moira's mouth pressing against her own. When she pulled away, Angela could see something that almost looked like adoration in Moira's eyes... right before she quickly thrusted the last few inches of the strap deep into her.
Angela yelped in surprise before hiding her face in the crook of Moira's neck, panting hard. Moira just laughed, pulling her hips back and thrusting forwards once more.
"That's right~ Taking me so well, like a good pet~" Moira whispered, moving her hips at a steady pace. She wasn't fast, but she was deep. It was just what Angela needed.
Moira used her hands to wrap Angela's legs around her waist, pressing her harder against the wall so Moira could let go and grab Angela's wrists instead, lifting them over her head. Now immobilized, she couldn't do anything other than weakly shift her hips around, successfully getting Moira to hit that sweet spot deep inside of her.
"Moira~ I'm still sensitive~ I can't take it." Angela sobbed, tears welling up in her eyes. Moira didn't stop though. She thrust her hips faster, bringing one hand down to wrap around Angela's throat, squeezing in just the right spots to make her brain go fuzzy.
"You can do it, you can cum again for me." Moira rasped, breathing heavily at the effort to maintain pace. Angela could feel it, the sweet tightening of her core, the anticipation that made her hold her breath and shut her eyes.
"Please! Please, please, please, Moira!"
It felt like she was floating, all of her senses were overwhelmed by the sensations flowing through her. She didn't make any noise, her mouth was stuck open in a silent scream. Her back arched, pushing her chest against Moira's so hard that she could feel her heartbeat. Moira cooed in her ear, whispering sweet nothings while Angela fell apart in her arms.
"Too much!" Angela felt the tears falling down her cheeks as Moira kept moving. She was overstimulated, twitching and crying as the demon eventually slowed down. Even so, Angela still sobbed into the cloth on Moira's shoulder, feeling overwhelmed by all of the sensations.
"Shhh, quiet, pretty thing. I've got you." Moira's voice was surprisingly soft and calming. Angela stopped crying, trying to calm her breathing. She dried her tears, looking up into Moira's eyes once again. One blue, one silver.
Moira pulled her body away, slowly pulling the strap from Angela's sopping cunt. She lowered her until she was sat on the floor. Again, Moira stood over her shriveled form. This time, she didn't look at the witch like she was a pathetic mortal, instead she looked at her with fondness.
Aftercare was a blur to Angela, but before she knew it she was clean, in new clothes, and tucked into the warmth of her bed. Moira sat beside her, stroking her cheek with her thumb.
"It's time for me to go, pet."
"...Goodbye... Moira."
"Goodbye Angela, I will be back soon."
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Whew, that was hard. Thank you for reading this whole thing!
Remember, liking and reblogging my work takes like 10 seconds and really helps me grow as a creator. Also, sending me requests gives me the motivation to write, so literally request anything that comes to your mind.
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acradelius · 9 months ago
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hi! could you do a dom, giving moira and sub, receiving fem reader? i love how you write her :) maybe some action in her office/lab with a strap too ? tysm!
"Let's See How Well You Handle This One, CoinĂ­n~"
Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2
Pairing: Moira O'Deorain x Female! Reader
Rating: Lemon [🟡] - (NSFW!)
Warnings/Mention Ofs: MDNI, Implied Non-Established/Possibly "Secretive" Relationship, Scientist / Scientist Assistance Relationship, Female x Female Relationship, Female Pronouns For Reader, Dominant! Female x Submissive! Female, "Mean, Punishing"! Moira, Possessive! Moira If You Squint, Strap-on Usage - Giving! Moira/Receiving! Reader, Clit Teasing, Nipple Play, Silicone P in V, Orgasm, Teasing With Cock-warming.
Word Count: 768 Words
Notes: This piece is technically considered to be a sequel part to this piece: "Quite The Punishment, Isn't It?"
If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, for certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!
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Those neat stacks of paper of research from the laboratory assistants that had taken quite some time to go through and essentially grade were now a disheveled mess amongst the floor, yet, Moira didn’t necessarily care for that at this moment. Why would Moira need to worry about some feeble papers about research that she was probably already aware about when she has something better presented in front of her? Despite that she was completely flustered, her skin slightly flushed from the situation at hand, that (Y/N) still looked absolutely stunning laying bare naked on Moira’s desk, clothes tossed aside on the floor to be forgotten about for the time being. “You did such a job well done, my dear Coinín~ While I would state that I’m surprised that you made it through the presentation without completely losing yourself to the immense please, you’ve been alongside me for quite some time now, so possibly you’re growing familiar to the punishments that I put you through~”
Moira could essentially state anything that she wants in that moment, but (Y/N)’s too preoccupied with the sight in front of herself despite laying on the desk to actually give a response. Especially since it was finally there for (Y/N) to actually view, for her to actually get to touch and experience with, that special gift that Moira had been hinting at for the last couple of weeks now. A custom made strapon. Being seven inches in length and three inches in width, colored with swirls of a glittering gold and an enigmatic purple from the tip down to the base of the cock. How it’s snuggly strapped onto Moira’s hips to rest against her pelvic, and how it just naturally blends in with Moira’s persona and aesthetic. Even for a moment (Y/N) swears that she could even see the cock throbbing, but it could be the arousal that was overtaking her mind.
There’s a brief moment where she proceeds to close her eyes in a moment of pleasure that courses throughout her body as Moira teasingly brushes the tip of the silicone cock against (Y/N)’s clit, chuckling softly. “Such an easy one to tease, such an easy one to please, aren’t you my dear Coinín?~” Watching as (Y/N)’s thighs twitch, clenching together slightly whenever that brief overwhelming rush washes over her body. Moira’s fingers trailing across (Y/N)’s skin, leaving lingering trails of an arousing fire, stopping amongst the various imperfections upon her skin as moreso a sign of reassurance that Moira loved (Y/N)’s body no matter how it looked. Gentle pinching and pulling at her nipples until they begin to perk and harden. Such a beautiful canvas waiting to be made into something more personal by Moira herself~
“More, please, Moira!~ F-Fuck, feels so good!~” (Y/N) manages to speak the words in between relentless moans and desperate whines, all those noises leaving her due to Moira’s rough, fast paced thrusts. Moira doesn’t mind that her thrusting is causing the desk to scrape against the floor, creating a loud scratching noise to echo throughout the air and scuff up the floor, she’ll get that fixed later. How (Y/N)’s fingers are tightly gripping the sides of the desk so much that they’re turning white, a feeble attempt to keep herself positioned on the desk despite moving quotes often from the force. A shiver courses throughout (Y/N)’s body at the additional sensations of Moira entangling her fingers within (Y/N)’s hair and firmly giving a yank followed by her other hand harshly smacking (Y/N)’s ass, a grin forming on her lips as the handprint, begins to form bright red and slightly irritated. 
 â€œFuck!-” It’s quick to overcome and cause haywire to all of (Y/N)’s senses, the intense orgasm that finally unravels within (Y/N). How her body begins to tremble against Moira’s while her cunt flutters and proceeds to clench and unclench around Moira’s cock. Closing her eyes, (Y/N) lays her head amongst the desk as shaky breaths make way from her lips, basking in the afterglow of her orgasm. Only Moira knows how to give her pleasure beyond what she could imagine, and therefore, Moira is the only one that (Y/N) strives to be with, especially in moments as intimate as this one. “Such a job well done, (Y/N)~ Giving me excellent results as always~ Now, my dear CoinĂ­n, let’s see how long you can last keeping my cock warm while I grade the rest of these papers~”
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mekakitsune · 2 years ago
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could you do some moira romantic and nsfw headcanons? she got me in a chokehold frfr
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moira nsfw hcs || cw: mind breaking, power imbalance, dom/sub dynamics
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moira looks after her experiments, you mustn't disobey her rules for you, she knows whats best and always has.
follow her orders and you will be rewarded. shes patient, allowing you to fix your mistakes, but you must not make the same mistake again.
if you happen to disobey her? she will ignore you. ignore your pleas for her to touch you, use you, even speak to you. takes it too far, by the time she decides you are ready for her words, you are a mess, tears streaming down your face as you sit pitifully at her feet, muttering apologies.
you want her to speak? so be it. she will remind you of everything you did to make her angry, calling you names, reminding you of your place. breaking you down with venom in her voice.
-
"after all i do for you...what a shame" she spits, fingers laced in your hair. "get up."
she tugs your hair as she pulls you to your feet. you are standing in front of her fully clothed form, while you are completely bare.
"sit." she gestures to her lap. you hesitated, straddling her with a false hope of affection.
her hands find your hips, and you want to cry again. her fingers are mean, pressing bruises into plush skin.
you want to fall foward, into her chest, but you know not to touch without permission.
"if you want to cum, do it yourself. right here." her voice is low, making shivers run down your spine at her tone. you feel her thigh move between your legs, pressing harshly against your exposed cunt.
whining at the contact, you move your hips, humping her thigh as she watches you closely. she doesnt say anything, only deep exhales coming from her as you ruin her slacks.
"i-im close...please" you sob, needing her to do something, anything.
"already? arent you pathetic.." she coos. suddenly she stops you, moving her fingers past your hip, allowing them to dip into your pussy. you cry out in relief, hips bucking as you ride her fingers. her thumb finds your clit, rubbing tight circles that push you over the edge.
"cum then. go on little one..." she removes her fingers from your dripping hole, focusing her attention to you throbbing clit. she rubs hard and fast as you fall into her chest, sobbing as you are pushed over the edge, cunt spasming painfully around nothing.
shes ruined your orgasm, but you cant say you care. the neglectful behaviour made you greatful for anything she gave you. crying softly, she moves you onto a table, lab equipment falls to the ground as she towers over you.
"i wont remind you again. listen to what you are told, or i will find someone else to play with." her fingers grip your chin, eyes dark. you nod dumbly.
nobody knows you like her. she knows what you need. she will always take care of you. you just need to listen to her, or pay the price of disobedience.
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overwatchforthesoul · 10 months ago
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Moira Relationship Headcannons
(SFW & NSFW)
Note: Hello! Here’s the first post, I had to make it for my sadistic gf! I hope y’all enjoy!
She’s very doting, but in a very subtle, almost annoyed way.
It’s honestly super endearing, once you realize she isn’t actually annoyed with you asking for help and things.
Example: She will find something you’ve taken hours to look for in a matter of minutes, and she’ll just scoff, roll her eyes, and crack a slight smile at your bewildered expression. She’ll gently drop the item into your hands as she pats your head a few times, before turning on her heel to continue whatever experiment you’ve distracted her from.
When she plans on working late in the lab, or has to go away on a mission, she will always have an entire date day for you two before she leaves.
It’s her way of apologizing for making you wait for her.
She’s definitely a workaholic, so you might have to help her out of the lab after a few days of no sleep in the beginning of your relationship.
She learns to regulate it more as you become more concerned.
She’s not very big on affection, especially in public. She’s most likely to let you hold on to her arm at most, but that’s mainly to keep track of you.
At home, she’ll allow the full spectrum of affection, however she does get overstimulated by to much of it.
However, she’s always willing to be the big spoon for you whenever you need.
I like to think Moira is pretty possessive over her pet (you).
Because of that, she would likely have you be her stay at home partner as soon as you express feelings of not wanting to work.
She doesn’t truly want to isolate you, but she likes the thought of being the center of your universe.
That being said, she’s also likely to be this way in the bedroom. However, she can fully let out her obsessive desires in these situations, because your body is all hers.
She likes to make you feel beneath her, like your desperate for her.
In sessions where she doesn’t want to be as dominate, she’ll let you take the reigns for the most part, but you and she know that with one word you’d be at her beck and call.
She isn’t particularly rough with you, opting for a slower, more experimental pace. She likes to ruin you but in the most meticulous way.
After care is always wonderful with her no matter how hard the scene is. She always knows how to get you back into a normal head space.
Overall, Moira is a caring partner, even though she may seem a bit cold. She will always know what you need when you need it, and will always be there to pick you up when you need it.
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ovwechoes · 5 months ago
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Support Girls & preference headcanons (NSFW)
This is a continuation of this post here, where I was asked if the ovw girls were submissive, dominant or switches. These are the support girls' ones, and I've put them under the cut due to nsfw discussion and the fact that I ramble like there's no tomorrow (please don't read if you're under 18+, thank you)
[ dps & tank are linked here if you'd prefer theirs ] 
Ana Amari: Ana's old school, and enjoys submissive sex with missionary that's very passionate. She used to love dominating when she was younger, with it being her main preference for years as a young adult. Now, though, she has no energy for it and likes to be pleasured in a sweet and loving way (when she does have the sex drive for it at least).
Brigitte Lindholm: Brigitte's a switch with a dominant lean - she prefers to dominate in a similar way to JQ where she's a power bottom, controlling the sex and leading her partner even when she's being pleasured. It's something she'll always enjoy and she especially has a kink for overstimulation on her partner. Brigitte loves to keep going and make their head spin from the pain and pleasure, and to watch them ontop of her with no control over what she's doing to them. If she's tired, or exhausted mentally, she likes to be pleasured and likes to go through the motions of sex to bring herself closer to her partner spiritually.
Illari Quispe Ruiz: Illari's submissive when she has the drive for sex, and likes passionate sex that's about showing love (so essentially love making). She doesn't enjoy rough sex as much as she thought she would, but she's still happy to have sex with some aspects as long as it's nothing extreme (i.e praise or dirty talk). Illari likes feeling closer to her partner, and has a kink for leg locking. She likes mutual masturbation as well, especially if she isn't in the mood for sex.
Kiriko Kamori: Kiriko's preference during sex is switch - she's happy to do what her partner's feeling, and she rarely has a specific lean. For her, she just wants to have sex and to orgasm, so she's not entirely fussed which way she wants to go. However, when she does know what way she's leaning, she likes to dominate through degradation and sensory play, and likes to submit through bondage and toys.
Angela Ziegler / Mercy: Angela likes to submit during sex, but especially foreplay. She likes to have her control removed and likes to feel she's loved and valued as much as she values others, with her pleasure coming first during sex. It's not often that she'll dominate, with the most she will do being riding or cowgirl. It's something she's willing to explore, but she doesn't naturally feel the dominant lean unless she's frustrated with something and needs to use sex to get her anger out.
Moira O'Deorian: Moira's of course a dominant woman, and she rarely likes to submit. She likes to be in control, watching her partner shake with pleasure from her actions and her words, and likes for her partner to know that they're owned completely by her. It's something she really enjoys sexually, and she rarely feels the desire to submit. Her biggest kink/turn on is tying her partner up and leaving them with too little pleasure while she works on something. Moira likes ignoring her partner until they're at their brink, begging for her.
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overwatchfics · 2 years ago
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Hii i’m the one who asked for the moira hq’s, do you think it could be a nsfw alphabet instead? 😣
NSFW Alphabet - Moira
A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex): Shut up, only silence and touch. Moira isn't really a talkative lover when she's intimate. She'll hold you, however she prefers silence, and maybe a couple words of affirmation. If you try to talk to her, expect only hums in reply as she groans tiredly into your neck.
B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s) Of herself? Probably her hair. Moira takes a lot of pride in keeping her hair styled. Of you? Probably your neck, Moira doesn't do well with intimate eye contact, so she'll bury herself in your neck instead.
C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically) No, sorry, she is getting the towels. She is kind of a neat freak, also is meh about cum tbh.
D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs) Loves when you call her doctor in bed, it REALLY gets her going.
E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?) She fooled around in her younger years, but it's been a while for sure.
F = Favorite position (this goes without saying) Lotus hands down. Likes to have you in her lap.
G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.) Not goofy at all.
H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.) Up to you reader.
I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect) For Moira, it's either very romantic (her sense of it at least) or a stress fuck. She will angry fuck you before breaking down in your arms.
J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon): Rarely, but still does.
K = Kink (one or more of their kinks): Bondage, roleplay, use of aphrodisiacs, light degradation.
L = Location (favorite places to do the do) The Lab, office, or bedroom. No and's ifs for buts about it.
M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going): Calling her doctor, Her own anger sex is kind of an unhealthy channel for that anger tbh she needs to talk about her problems please talk to this woman she needs help, and jaw caresses.
N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs) I really don't know with Moira, I feel like she doesn't mind the edge of danger, so do expect to be played with a little dangerously. No talking during sex, that is a big pet peve, names and an occasional sentence is ok, but it's a huge turn off for her.
O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.) Loves receiving it, not too fond of giving it, but she is proficient if you ask nicely of her.
P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.) Slow and sensual, but if she's angry she is rough with pace. Usually aggressively fast, her nails digging and clawing into your skin as she rolls her hips harshly into yours against her lab table.
Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.) Nope, not for her.
R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.) Big risk taker, she lives at the edge of danger.
S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?) Not long, Moira doesn't have the best endurance, but she'll try.
T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?) No, she misuses extra lab equipment. She might have a strap or a butt plug, but that's as much as I can think rn.
U = Unfair (how much they like to tease) Depends on the mood, if she's feeling a little sadistic, oh yeah.
V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.) louder than you'd think, loud groans and grunts.
W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character) Has misused biotic orbs.
X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes) up to you reader.
Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?) Mild, once a week?
Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards) Normal sex, she falls asleep last, if it's angry sex she collapses on the bed and passes out.
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peachsmoochiee · 2 years ago
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moicy lab shenanigans (full view)
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kiwi-on-ice · 5 months ago
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Outfits (on you) preference headcannons with Ashe, Moira, Sombra, Kiriko and Junker Queen with fem!reader
Word count: 1.4k
Warnings: smut 18+, both sfw and nsfw variations, dom/sub dynamics present, filming, slight petplay
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Notes: i love women <3 Wanted to write something small to say thank you all so much for 200 followers! I'm blown away, thank you all for giving me so much support on my filthy little hobby.
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Ashe:
Anything she’s bought you.
Ashe herself likes to dress in a way that shows she’s in charge, that shows she’s the leader of a dangerous gang. So when she starts dating you, she’s able to dress you up in all the ways she can’t dress
You’re her pretty doll, to be dressed up and twirled for her enjoyment.
If you have a specific style, she’ll use her wealth to get you the best and most expensive items of clothing that match you.
However if you don’t? Well she’ll have to just do you up all pretty won’t she? She’ll get the finest dresses and skirts (some that perhaps are a little too short), as well as lavish and expensive jewellery that matches.
She’ll love to have you try on the clothes she buys you, giving her a twirl so she can observe from all angles.
Anything that shows your thighs she’ll love, getting to fondle them when you both sit together. It’s her little way of showing that you’re hers.
Nsfw:
So when she said she’ll buy you the prettiest and most expensive clothes, lingerie is 100% included in that.
She’ll always come back from her travels with a pretty box, inside being a lingerie set she thinks will just look perfect on you.
Any colour that takes her fancy, although she has a certain penchant for red. The way it matches her lipstick really riles her up, so her kiss marks will match the delicious lace. But also when you both are in public, and she knows you both are matching in
less that obvious ways.
Although the reason she keeps buying you more and more is due to her impatience; there’s been several beautiful sets she’s ruined by tearing them off or stretching them in the throes of passion.
Other than lingerie, it comes back to skirts again. Don’t be surprised if when you both are intimate, she may take your skirt off last. Or perhaps leave it on, have you bouncing on her strap while the cute little skirt ripples and moves.
Moira:
A simple woman, she likes the items of clothing you might not expect.
She’s a fan of when you wear comfy clothes, like an oversized shirt that’s too big for you, so it ends around your thighs. Bonus if it’s her shirt; and especially bonus if it clings to your thighs while being a little baggy in other areas.
Although she’s also a very big fan of nightgowns. The more ‘feminine’ the better, especially if they’re quite old fashioned.
She finds them exquisite and quite refined, loving the way you look in them. Especially if she comes home from the lab late, seeing you peacefully in bed wearing a nightgown. White would be her favourite colour of them, however a red one would certainly have her mind racing.
Additionally, if you wear her lab coat
especially in her lab? Her face is heating up a little.
Nsfw:
If you’re wearing a button up, she’ll make you take it off for her. She’s a fan of you ‘performing’ for her, putting on a show. So she’ll make you slowly undo each button, revealing yourself slowly for her hungry eyes.
She’s also a fan of skirts, although unlike Ashe, they’re coming off first. Especially while you’re bent over so she can spank you and watch the handprints form.
Moira is also a pretty wealthy woman now that she’s getting her funding from
less than legal sources, with most of her income just going back into her research. So she’ll most likely give you some money to get yourself ‘something pretty’, and let you loose in a lingerie store so you can get something to show her later that night.
Although her one dirty secret she’s never shared is that the idea of you in a maid dress is
tempting. She isn’t sure why this particular fantasy of hers is one she’s reluctant to tell you, but maybe she’ll let it slip one night while her fingers are deep inside of you.
Sombra:
Another woman who likes to buy you things.
She’ll hack into your wish lists to see what clothes you like, and then get them and act like she just guessed (after a while you catch on, but don’t tell her, it’s more fun for her this way).
Honestly I think she’d love to see you in purple, wants you both to match.
Although I think she would also love an alt girl, with fishnets, chains, dark tones, you name it.
Will insist on being the one to pull up your tights or stockings or long socks, thinks its intimate, and will most likely press a kiss to wherever the garment ends.
Loves loves LOVES to see you in jeans, thinks they make your legs and ass look delicious.
Especially if you attach a chain to it, she'll love tugging on it to bring you closer and give you a kiss.
Nsfw:
she'll definitely love you dressing up in outfits made especially for sex.
her particular favourites are maid dresses and Halloween costumes (think sexy cat and sexy devil)
Due to her predilection for filming you, the costumes just make you look more stunning for her eyes and the camera lens.
She'll love to project the footage of you onto the wall to tease you, making you watch your body writhe and shake at her touch while you wear an embarrassing outfit.
Other than costumes, lingerie works for her too. Her particular favourite colour is purple (obvs)
She also loves lace bodysuits on you, adores the feeling of them under her fingertips as she runs her fingers up and down your waist.
Kiriko:
She loves fashion, so she'll adore a s/o that loves it too!
Definitely the type to want to share clothes, but if you aren't the same size as her don't worry, she'll just get two sizes of all the clothes she buys.
Really loves a y2k/streetwear style on a girl, especially the cool jackets. The type to have pinterest moodboards of the types of fashion for both you and herself.
Would steal your jackets constantly and wear them, getting to feel like she's yours.
And 100% loves it if you match her energy and steal hers too, makes her feel all giddy when she sees you wearing her jacket in public.
Also would love a partner who wears a lot of rings, you'll find her fiddling with them when you hold her hand.
Nsfw:
any outfit that you wear that shows your bra, whether it be a see-through top or an of the shoulder one where the strap is exposed, gets her going.
Definitely would love to snap the bra strap against your skin to tease you, especially in public.
She adores roleplaying, so anything where you both get to wear costumes.
Whether you're dressed as a sexy nurse , or a police officer or even a sexy secretary, she'll love it.
Will try and keep most of your costumes on in those scenarios.
Also loves it when you wear jeans, so she can grind herself on your thigh and feel the denim.
Junker Queen:
She's a strong and fiery woman, with an equally strong and edgy fashion sense. So to her, she'll love it if you dressed...dainty.
Is interested in the dichotomy, seeing you in the prettiest and most pastel dresses and tops and skirts and cute thigh high socks while she sits on her throne in her black denim and metal armour.
Loves anything floral on you.
Also loves texture, hence why she loves lace. She'll enjoy anything that feels interesting to her touch as she runs her strong hands over you.
But nothing beats your bare skin in her eyes, so if you're wearing a dress, skirt or shorts, you better have nothing preventing her from feeling and squeezing your bare thigh.
In that regard, she'll also love you to wear something off the shoulder too, so she can see your collarbones.
Nsfw:
Listen she's a simple woman when it comes to her desire for you, so nothing beats you being naked.
You'd try to wear the cutest lingerie sets but it wouldn't matter, she'd have them ripped off in seconds.
Always would complain, if it were up to her you simply wouldn't wear anything under your clothes (or anything in general).
However, that all changes when she first sees a playboy bunny outfit.
Something about it ignites a fire in her, and immediately she's getting you one.
Seeing the silly bunny ears on your head, the tights, the bodysuit, she wants you so badly it hurts. The vision of you on your knees in front of her, looking up at her like her own little pet, her own little rabbit.
If you do wear it, you'll create a monster...so good luck.
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ddollipop · 1 year ago
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TILL I'M FINALLY FIXED. . . ! — ( MOIRA O'DEORAIN. )
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#. synopsis! — you know this is a nasty habit, but it's not one you're willing to break until it breaks you first .
#. contains! — f!reader , explicitly nsfw content , lesbian smut, female on female, dirty talk , explicit age difference , references to power imbalances , oral sex , cunnilingus , dom!moira , sub!reader , one-sided stimulation , giving preference (moira) , praise , sort of birthday sex , collaring , mentions of alcohol (past) , mentions of smoking + cigarettes , toxic relationship dynamics , explicit references to mommy issues , implied rough childhood (reader) , usage of a sex toy (vibrator) , thigh riding , multiple positions , multiple orgasms .
#. word count! — 4.1k .
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You know you shouldn’t be here, —but here you are yet again, coming to Moira’s every beck and call. All it took was one text and you’re standing in front of her door in a nice little dress that won’t stay on for much longer anyhow, but you wanted to wear it because you bought it less for yourself and more for her. You want her to see you in it, take a moment to admire the way it flatters your figure, hugs all the right places, let her eyes rake over you like you’re some kind of fine arts exhibit before she takes her sweet time stripping it off and tossing it to the wayside. And then you’re sure she’ll trail those nails of hers along the bare skin of your arms, toying with the straps of your lacy bra before she finally unhooks it from the back and discards of it as well, leaving lipstick stains on your chest when her mouth meets your skin. She’ll whisper that you’re pretty, and you might just believe it for the night, and then she’ll make you believe it when she kisses you hard enough to steal your breath away, and—
Your thoughts still when she opens the door for you, giving you a knowing smirk. There was never a question of if you were coming, just one of how quickly you’d be arriving, and here you are, even though you shouldn’t be. She invites you inside and lingers behind you under the guise of closing the door, but you can feel her piercing stare on your body as she flips the lock. You leave your heels at the door, as always. 
No, it’s not a good idea to be back here again, but you’ve convinced yourself by now that sometimes it’s okay to live a little. Moira is a lot of things, but she’s someone you trust enough to let see you in very vulnerable positions, and you like to think that’s enough. It might be a naive perspective to have on the matter, —but that’s to be expected of you, so young and pliable. You met Moira on the night of your twenty-first birthday, celebrating alone at a bar where she was sipping on straight whiskey while you nursed a poorly prepped martini (and found that alcohol in general just isn’t much to your taste.)
Nearly thirty years your senior, she felt like she was taking a chance on you that night. It’d been a rough day, and she’d gone so long only caring about her work and all the ways she was looking to change the world that her desire to want and be wanted had since fallen to the wayside. But there you were with those lost, innocent eyes, glancing around like you hadn’t a clue what you were doing (because you didn’t.) She was so confident and smooth in the way she moved down the bar to sit next to you, then let her hand rest on your thigh after a few minutes of chit-chat. One thing led to another, she bought you a few drinks to try, and then took you to a nearby hotel for the night where she sank her teeth in deep enough to keep you around for a while.
Nearing twenty-two and just as eager to please her, you accept her kiss with parted lips, letting her tongue rake itself over yours.
“You’re beautiful as ever,” she says, running the back of her slender index finger down the length of your cheek, “—is that a new dress you’ve got on?”
You know it doesn’t mean anything that she noticed. Not really, anyway. It’s in her job description to be observant, and her memory is impeccable, and yet you let it get to you that she noticed. You let yourself think that she really does care beyond what you’ve got between your legs that she really likes to press her mouth against until you’re left a quivering mess.
“Yeah, it is,” you nod, a bashful smile tugging at the corners of your lips. “I thought I’d treat myself. Do you like it?”
“I do,” she confirms, letting her eyes trail down the length of you once more. “An early birthday present to yourself, I presume?”
“You remembered?”
She remembered. Heaven help you, she makes this so much more complicated than it needs to be. Or, she helps you make it much more complicated than it needs to be, anyway. You know it’s a fool’s game to chase after her like she’s some kind of prize to be won, but. . . She’s so mature, and she makes you feel so special.
Long story short, you’ve got a down-bad case of mommy issues, but when you’re all tied up in Moira’s arms and she’s kissing every inch of you, wanting you down to the marrow, —it’s hard to let yourself be sad.
“Of course I remembered,” she replies so tenderly.
But tender like a bruise.
“Come, I got you something,” she beckons, moving her hand from your cheek and down to your wrist.
Moira pulls you along to her bedroom, the one you’ve been in many times before with a large sliding-glass door that leads to a balcony overlooking the city below. You’re not sure how much her rent is each month for this luxury apartment of hers, but you know it can’t be cheap. Sometimes you stand with her outside in the late night air, one of her button-up shirts hanging down to your kness with nothing but panties underneath after a nice time together. She’ll smoke a cigarette under the moonlight and press it to your lips every now and again, letting you take small hits that you never really breathe in.
“You really didn’t have to get me anything,” you tell her in earnest. “Besides, my birthday isn’t for a few more days. . .”
“Oh, hush,” she tells you, sounding more playful than scolding as she hands you a gift bag.
It’s a solid crimson color, which you can’t help but think is oddly befitting of her. There’s no glitter, frills, or ribbons, no bells and whistles to name, so you move to open it, but glance up at her in hesitation, as if asking for permission. She nods, to which you swallow and push some of the tissue paper aside, digging your hand into the bag until you touch something smooth toward the bottom.
Confused, you pull the item out and feel your face heat up. It’s a leather collar.
“Do you like it?” She inquires, leaning down to whisper in your ear. “I think you should try it on.”
You nod and hand it over to her, pushing your hair out of the way so she can fasten it around your throat. It seems like such an easy process for her, and you can’t help but wonder if she’s ever done such a thing with anyone else. Once it’s secured, she moves in front of you and takes a step back, admiring the accessory.
“What do you think?” You ask, sounding somewhat sheepish.
“What a sight you are to behold, a ghrá,” she hums. “It even matches your dress.”
Black leather with a little black dress, it’s kind of hard to go wrong there.
“Come,” she all but coos, taking a seat on the edge of her king-sized bed right next to the oakwood nightstand.
It has three drawers, the top of which is always filled with various items you’ve had on or inside you over the past year; a few vibrators, various lubricants in different flavors, body oils, —and now, a silver chain. . . Like the kind you might use to keep a dog in place for a bit or curl around your bike to stop it from getting stolen. You stand between her thighs as she lets the length of it fall to the floor. Your guess would be that it’s only five feet or so long, but you’re sure she’ll make do with it just fine.
“Lean down for me,” she requests, and you do, no questions to be asked on the matter.
Moira smirks as she hooks the chain to the collar on your neck.
“Such an obedient thing, aren’t you?” She quips, then gives the chain a little yank for good measure. “Kneel.”
She feels her hunger grow the moment you comply so easily, as if she’s your master and you’ve been trained ever so perfectly to follow her every command without question.
“Good girl,” she murmurs, wrapping the metal links around her knuckles, then folding her fingers back over them.
She places a fingernail beneath your chin and tilts your gaze up until you’re transfixed on her irises.
“You’re so pretty like this, did you know that?” She inquires rhetorically.
The nail against your skin becomes the whole of her palm against your cheek. Her hand is cold, but you can’t seem to care beyond the brief initial shock.
“Don’t think your efforts go unnoticed, darling, I know exactly who you purchased that dress for,” Moira smirks. “And I’m enjoying every moment of seeing you in it, just as you intended.”
And that’s really all it takes. This love might bleed like an open wound, might fester until you stitch it up again, —but it’s here that you don’t mind all the nights you craved validation for every good deed that went unnoticed. Maybe Moira isn’t praising your straight A’s or being proud of just how much like her you look, but what’s the fucking difference if it fills the same void? What does it really matter if it helps?
“Open,” she utters, and as you do, she places two fingers from her opposite hand against the flat of your tongue, drawing little circles in your saliva.
Then she rests an elbow against her knee and leans down a little lopsidedly, replacing her fingers with her lips, kissing you sloppily, capturing your mouth and keeping you there until she’s had her fill of it. When she breaks away, you feel her fingers searching for your dress’s zipper along the back.
“I really hate to see this go so soon, but certain sacrifices are in order,” she sighs a little playfully, tugging the zipper down about halfway before standing upright and using the chain on your neck to pull you with her.
On your feet again, she helps you out of your dress and makes a show of folding it ever so neatly, then placing it on the nightstand in front of her lamp and her alarm clock that’s woken you up too soon far too many times for your liking. Moira lays you down on her bed, and it’s so large that it reminds you of the one you’d search for at night when bad dreams took hold of your fragile little heart and squeezed just hard enough to crush it into pieces at will. Only this time, there’s warmth awaiting your endeavors, and you’re not a lowly little child that has to beg for affection.
She rubs a few teasing lines down your slit through the black lace of your panties, teasing you briefly with her touch. For as long as you’ve known her, Moira has never been very keen on reciprocation, preferring to give rather than take. She likes the control and the motions of it all, likes to know that she has the upper hand, —and she always does when she’s with you.
It’s only been a few moments, but it feels like a lifetime and then some by the time she hooks her fingers under the waistband of your underwear and begins to tug them down your thighs. You feel the scratch of the materials against your flesh as you lift your hips off the sheets to make it easier, and she’s much less careful with your panties than she was with your dress just a bit ago. They wind up somewhere on the floor at the foot of her bed.
You gasp a bit when the pad of her thumb slips past your lips and nudges along your clit almost instantaneously. The quick reaction makes her snicker a bit.
“Sensitive as ever,” She comments offhandedly.
The unspoken part of that is something along the lines of I’ve always loved that about you.
After a year’s worth of hookups, late nights, and hellishly early mornings spent together, Moira is virtually an expert in all things pertaining to you. Such is only exemplified by the way she teases you for a bit with her tongue before letting it slip past your lips to lap at your inner folds.
You choke on a few curse words just above her, already clawing at the sheets as she flicks her tongue against you, pulling the chain that still remains clutched in her hand a bit tighter. It’s not enough to cause any pain, but it squeezes your neck from the back and makes it ever so slightly harder to take in gasping breaths of air.
She was more than right when she called you sensitive, —both to her touch and everything else about her. You’ve always been so eager to make her happy, and she loves that about you. You’d jump through rings of fire for her, and she knows it.
The mixture of your arousal and her spit makes for a delicious squelshing sound at every move she makes, tongue thrusting in and out of your soaked cunt, abusing your clit for her pleasure while you whine and whimper above her. This kind of pleasure has always felt overwhelming in a good way; the kind that gets your blood pumping, heart racing, and inhabitions lowered enough to fall for someone like her, even when you know it’s bad for you.
Moira feels the stress of her work and the critics of her methods melt away when her tongue is busy torturing you so sweetly, lapping at every glistening inch she can. She’s mind-numbingly thorough, and it leaves your thighs quivering long before your orgasm begins to prickle just under your skin. For as good as she is with words, it comes as no surprise that she’s just as skilled with her tongue in all areas of her life.
It doesn’t take much more of this to have you cumming on her tongue, cunt spasming so helplessly under her touch.
Fuck, you’d do anything to have her like this every night when she gets in from work and needs something —someone— to take her frustrations out on. You’ve always been good for that.
“Tired?” She muses, regarding you a bit sweetly as she sits upright and wipes her mouth with the sleeve of her button-up shirt.
“Just a bit,” you answer, breathing slightly easier now that she isn’t pulling as harshly on the chain clipped to your throat.
“Not tired enough to stop now, I’d hope?”
What you really wanna say is that you’d never stop until she told you that you could, gave you explicit confirmation that enough was enough, —but you can’t. You know deep down that it’d scare her off, and you just couldn’t handle that kind of rejection, so you shake your head instead.
“Good,” Moira replies. “It’d be a shame to pause here when I have so much planned for you tonight. That was merely the tip of the iceberg.”
An appetizer, one she was wetting her chops with.
She digs around in that drawer next to her bedside, pulling a vibrator from the inside. You’re not so sure she’s ever used this one on you before, but if there’s one thing Moira always knows how to do right, it’s give you pleasure, so you resign yourself to laying there on her bed as she presses one of the pebble-like buttons on the shaft and feels the item begin to shake in her hand.
“Turn over,” she quips, thinking you’ve had enough cool-down time between sets of stimulation, —and you do, hiking your ass into the air and speading your thighs apart to give her ample access.
You feel her nails scratch thoughtfully over your goosebump-ridden skin, pausing for a moment to knead at your flesh a few times. Then she runs a hand down to the small of your back, wordlessly encouraging you to rest your head against the mattress and let her get to work. A needy moan is drawn from your parted lips the very second she presses the vibrator to your pussy lips, causing shivers to wrack through your body.
The soft hum of the toy speeds up into more of a whirring sound as she increases the tenacity and pushes it inward, slipping past your folds to pulsate against your desperate clit. Moira seems rather satisfied with the sounds you’re making, even as she reaches just under your body to snatch the chain still dangling from around your neck. You feel it jostle as she wraps it around her knuckles once, then twice, pulling taunt while she begins drawing blissful shapes into your snatch that have your eyes rolling back into your head.
Then from the soft melody of the toy’s buzz came a sudden crescendo into a firm, droning noise that made you cry out a bit from the intensity.
“Ah,” Moira says, almost in amusement, “I take it that’s the one?”
“Yes,” you reply quickly, the word coming out so ruined by no fault of your own.
“Very well,” she notes, swirling the tip against your clit again before pulling away and repeating.
It’s like she’s teasing you, though you’re not sure if that’s the intention of it all. Either way, you make no attempt to complain. It’s impossible to even think about doing so when you’ve got stars swashing across your vision. You’re sure you’d have been drooling between your legs by now, dripping all over her sheets, if not for the knob of the vibrator catching and returning it, slicking you up even more.
Your neck is beginning to ache from the position you’re laying in, but you ignore the signs from your body to move and find a more comfortable posture. All you can focus on is the heat between your legs and the toy she’s now pressing so roughly against you that you can practically feel the vibrations in your womb. The pressure builds once again, your stomach twisting into knots, —and then you finally let out the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding as an orgasm wracks through your body. It was so much easier to elicit the second time around, almost enough for you to be embarrassed.
Moira pulls the toy away slowly, letting your lips kiss it softly goodbye as she switches it back to a stationary position.
“To your liking, I take it?” She asks, and you can hear the smirk in her voice.
“Yeah,” you huff, “—definitely.”
It just always is when you’re with her, no matter what she does, or even if she only uses what she has readily available. Anything she offers is enough. You’d do anything just touch her, feel her skin against yours, feel her lips ghost against you like they always do. You’re left to toe another dangerous line between ecstasy and infatuation.
She tugs the chain and you find yourself on your knees, kneeling a bit unsteadily on your thighs that haven’t quite stopped quivering just yet. You lower your ass to your heels on the mattress as she wraps an arm around your waist, tugging you a bit closer to trail some peppered kisses down your jaw. It’s hard not to feel special when you have her like this, —when she showers you in all the adoration you missed out on in your younger years. Sure, maybe it’s not the same, and maybe it is just placing a bandaid over a gash deep enough to need stitches, but it’s the best you can do. There’s no amount of therapy that can really change the past, and if Moira is what it takes for you to feel like you’re worth something for a while, then so fucking be it.
By now, your pussy’s sopping wet and swollen, but still in desperate need of her attention. Moira kisses you again, but your lips this time, slipping her tongue into your mouth and swapping your spit for her own.
You swallow down the I love you that rises in the back of your throat like bile. You can’t say that. . . You won’t. You can think it all you want, because she can’t read your mind (as much as it feels like she can sometimes) —but you can’t say it out loud. Not when you know it means throwing away this already pitifully fragile balance.
“Come,” she says simply, moving to sit at the head of her bed, long legs stretched out and clothed in black dress pants with the texture of rough denim.
She situates you as she pleases, one leg on either side of her right thigh, one hand on your hip to keep you steady while the other fiddles with the chain. She coaxes you down until your pussy is flat against her, taking in a sharp breath from the warmth and the friction.
“Let’s get this out of the way, shall we?” She comments, both hands meeting behind your back to unclasp your bra, —the last item of clothing left on your frame.
Once it’s shed, she gives you another look-over, admiring you like she’s never seen you this way before. 
“Your wrists,” she requests, to which you comply so obediently, like a pet she’s trained ever so well. 
Moira wraps the length of the chain around your wrists a few times, tucking the end through the space in the middle. Under any other circumstances, you’d have easily been able to wriggle your way free, but you allow yourself to be bound for the sake of her pleasure; leaning forward to rest against her shoulder.
“Sweet thing,” she murmurs. “One more? They say third time’s the charm, after all.”
“Whatever you want,” you answer, even at the risk of coming on a little too strong.
Luckily, she doesn’t seem to mind the intensity of the statement and appears to chalk it up to pillow talk.
With both of her hands free now, she plants one on each side of your hips, nails digging slightly into the plush of your skin. A whine clings to the back of your throat as she guides you, coaxing you into a subtle grind against her clothed thigh. Sharp prickles run along your spine as you move a little faster, chasing a final high that really can’t seem to come fast enough.
Moira seemed more than content to lie back and watch you drive yourself wild in her lap, her hands less guiding your motions now and more just coming along for the ride that she’s letting you set the pace of. You spur between quick, jagged motions and slow, deliberate ones that really send shocks throughout your body, all of which meld deliciously together and leave you love drunk atop her.
You know the wetness from your pussy is staining her pants, likely more than enough to seep through the fabric, but she doesn’t seem to mind at all. With your heart pounding like a drum in your chest, you almost have the wherewithal to wonder if she can hear it. You find it’s harder to breathe now, lungs aching a little from the inconsistent amounts of air you’re taking in a series of random gulps, then sputtering out between desperate moans of pleasure.
“Moira,” you hiss, —and she squeezes your hips in silent response.
The heat in the pit of your stomach has begun to spark like a live wire, just begging to catch ablaze. You bury your face in the crook of her neck, muffling the ragged sobs that you can’t hold back any longer, eventually sinking your teeth into the junction of her slender shoulder when your climax hits you. 
Moira listens to the uneven rhythm of your breathing as it steadily calms into something less strangled, trailing her fingers down your naked spine. When you’ve come down from the high, she unravels the chain, then removes it entirely, and stuffs it (as well as the vibrator) back into the drawer they came from. The collar comes off just as readily, and she takes a moment to check on the condition of your throat in the process. Best of all, you just know it’s going to be one of the better nights when she reaches off to the side of the bed, plucking her half-empty pack of cigarettes from the nightstand to place one of them between her lips.
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kuramassss · 9 months ago
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Im gonna start write fanfics with characters x reader, so im taking requests for:
DC Fem characters:
Raven
White Canary
Black Canary
Black Siren
Laurel Lance
Thea Queen
Sara Lance
Harley Quinn
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CW Characters:
Supergirl
Kara Danvers
Alex Danvers
Overgirl
Red Daugher
Nia Zal
Black Canary
Black Siren
Laurel Lance
Sara Lance
Ava Sharp
Charlie
Caitlyn Snow
Killer Frost
Thea Queen
Shado
Jessie Wells
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Overwatch Characters:
Ashe
Tracer
Widowmaker
D.Va
Ana Amar
Pharah
Mercy
Mei
Bridget
Junker Queen
Echo
Moira Odelion
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ofallthingsnasty · 1 year ago
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Me wanting to read Moira O'Deorain/Reader fic is like. I crave nasty morally corrupt fucked up medical malpractice smut. I crave a 150k fluff modern AU where she is just really hard working and you show her how to live a little. I crave 50k words of enemies to lovers where she basically grinds you into dust with her attitude and then you two fuck it out. I want to be her cute little exception. Her silly rabbit. Her right hand arm. Man. I want her to go full yandere over you and just snuff you on the spot. You know. Just your usual Wednesday.
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acradelius · 9 months ago
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nsfw dom moira x sub female reader? Pls :3♡?
"Quite The Punishment, Isn't It?"
Fandom: Overwatch / Overwatch 2
Pairing: Moira O'Deorain x Female! Reader
Rating: Lemon [🟡] (NSFW!)
Warnings / Mention Ofs: MDNI, Implied Non-Established/Possibly "Secretive" Relationship, Scientist / Scientist Assistance Relationship, Female x Female Relationship, Female Pronouns For Reader, Dominant! Female x Submissive! Female, "Mean, Punishing"! Moira, Collective Punishment (?), Possessive! Moira If You Squint, Vibrator Usage - Reader Receiving, Exhibitionism, Public Embarrassment, Public Orgasm, Open Ending.
Word Count: 1,054 Words
If you'd like to be tagged for all posts, certain fandom posts, or certain character posts then feel free to message me!
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Moira was using this as a punishment, needless to state. It was a punishment for (Y/N) apparently allowing one of Moira’s newest laboratory assistants to blatantly flirt around with her. Despite that (Y/N) had attempted to explain to Moira that she had no romantic feelings towards or romantic intentions to pursue with the assistant, how all those flirtatious comments were brushed aside by (Y/N) or that she had changed the conversations to something else completely different, Moira wasn’t fixing to budge on deciding that her favorite, beloved assistant needed to be punished. “You should have come to me immediately the first time it had happened and informed me of the situation,” Moira would only state as a response before reaching down into a “special” drawer within her desk to present (Y/N) with a box that would be concluded in her punishment: remote controlled vibrating panties.
The secondary segment of the punishment was definitely something more drastic than what was typically expected from a usual punishment that Moira would inflict upon (Y/N), but it seems that Moira wanted to get her point across. It wasn’t just to get the point that (Y/N) belongs solely to Moira, it was to also get the point across to all the other laboratory assistants that had to attend the “special, mandatory presentation that (Y/N) had been assigned to present”. It was a presentation about the topic of the how through trial and error of splicing DNA of a human being and some species of certain creatures such- it was about fifteen minutes into the presentation whenever (Y/N) could briefly feel the faint vibrations against her cunt, causing her to shift herself awkwardly against the stadium, immediately causing her to momentarily pause from her ongoing statement. How (Y/N)’s attention is momentarily moved to Moira’s figure standing at the back of the presentation room, a smirk playing on her lips and while one hand was promptly rested upon her hip, the other one was clenched into a fist while her thumb was moving around frequently.
“One of the various attributes that the axolotls possess as to why they are included within this presentation is their ability to regenerate their limbs, especially that they can do this with no signs of trauma- nngh, ahh!~” An quick and intense vibration is enough to cause a crude groan to escape past (Y/N)’s lips, echoing throughout the room due to the performance microphone she was wearing, and despite standing behind the podium it was quite obvious that she was pressing her thighs tightly together while bending over slightly. Despite the vulgar scene that was taking place in front of them, there wasn’t a single soul that would dare question as to why they were being made to witness this act that was obviously on the scale of being an intimate act and that typically was kept behind closed doors, but no one dared to actually make their question known in fear of having to deal with being reprimanded and punished by Moira herself. Spend some minutes watching as (Y/N) would continue on with her presentation, then watch as she would quite easily fail at attempting to remain stable from the relentless vibrations that were attacking her cunt and other causing sensations of edging and arousal to surge throughout her body, be given a moment to gather herself and continue on with the presentation, then repeat.
“Moira, please- ahh!~” (Y/N)’s trembling voice echoes throughout the room from the speakers, having a desperate tone of not only arousal, but a pleading and apologizing tone as well. At this point she’s not able to maintain stability as she’s using the podium to keep herself from collapsing onto the floor in an aroused mess, hands gripping so tightly onto the sides of the podium that her knuckles are white. Despite that her thighs are tightly pressed together in an attempt to disrupt the vibrations that were relentlessly attacking her clit, there was really no way to fight against it when Moira’s the hand at the control, finding amusement at how quickly (Y/N) was unraveling, especially in the presence of all of their fellow laboratory assistants. How those lust lidded eyes of (Y/N)’s are following Moira’s every move as she makes way from her spot within the back of the room to approach the podium, a soft chuckle leaving her lips.
She’s not exactly for sure whether it happens to be the laboratory assistants watching as she’s slowly giving way to the embraces of euphoria and pleasure, or if it happens to be that Moira has the vibrator set to maximum efficiency on all aspects to where (Y/N) hasn’t had the opportunity to settle herself down and focus on the presentation at hand. It’s within the next couple of moments that the first orgasm proceeds to cause (Y/N) to lose her tight grip upon the sides of the podium and she falls to her knees upon the floor, “F-Fuck!~ I’m cumming, cumming!~” Almost immediately does the vibrations finally come to a stop, giving (Y/N) a brief moment to be able to catch her breath while her body trembles throughout the waves of the orgasm. “M-Moira,” She states the woman’s name as a plea to end the punishment as (Y/N), and for sure alongside everyone else, has learned their lessons, yet there’s only a chuckle of amusement in response that comes from Moira.
Moira’s fingernails brush gently across flushed cheeks until the make way to their destination of (Y/N)’s chin, forming into a firm grip and proceeding to lift her head to make and maintain eye contact, “Oh, my dear, sweet (Y/N)~ You’ve done quite well, but you aren’t finished with your presentation yet~” Another devious chuckle that comes from Moira before she glances towards the projection screen behind them as a smirk begins to form upon her lips. “As a matter of fact, you still have twenty-seven slides left before you’re punishment is over~” And as if to prove point even further there’s a moment of anticipation before Moira’s thumb flicks over the control buttons, turning on the vibrator within (Y/N)’s panties once again.
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