unhinged overwatch oneshots

Mercy teaches you knife skills

The soft hum of the city outside faded into the background as Y/N stepped into Angela's warmly lit apartment, a smile spreading across his face at the sight of her. She greeted him with a gentle hug, her blonde hair catching the light, casting a halo around her. The apartment was cozy, filled with soft furnishings and personal touches that made it immediately welcoming.

"I thought we could make dinner together," Angela suggested, leading Y/N into the small, yet inviting kitchen. "How about a classic tomato soup? It's simple, but comforting."

Y/N nodded, enthusiasm lighting up his features. "Sounds perfect," he replied, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt in readiness. The ingredients were already laid out on the counter: ripe tomatoes, fresh basil, onions, garlic, and a selection of herbs and spices.

As they began, Angela handed Y/N a knife and a chopping board for the tomatoes. Y/N, inexperienced but eager, grasped the knife awkwardly, his movements hesitant and clumsy. Angela watched for a moment, a small smile playing on her lips before she stepped closer.

"Here, let me show you," she said softly, moving to stand beside him. Her hand gently covered his, guiding the knife with practiced ease. "You want to hold it like this, see? It gives you more control and is much safer."

The warmth of her hand over his, the closeness of her body as she leaned in to correct his stance, sent a flutter through Y/N's chest. Their eyes met, laughter twinkling in Angela's as she stepped back, giving him space to try again.

With Angela's guidance, Y/N's movements became more confident, the tomatoes succumbing to his improved technique. As they worked side by side, the kitchen filled with the fragrant aroma of cooking, an easy camaraderie settling between them.

Once the tomatoes were sufficiently chopped, and the soup began to simmer, Angela retrieved a whetstone from a drawer. "A sharp knife is a chef's best friend," she remarked, catching Y/N's curious gaze. "Here, I'll show you how to sharpen it properly."

The sharpening of the knife turned into an intimate dance of sorts. Angela positioned herself behind Y/N, her hands covering his as they held the knife against the stone. Together, they drew the blade back and forth, the rhythmic scraping sound blending with their shared laughter and whispered instructions.

"Like this," Angela murmured, her breath warm against Y/N's ear, sending shivers down his spine. Their hands moved in sync, occasionally brushing against each other, lingering just a moment too long. The flirtatious undercurrent was undeniable, each touch charged with an electric tension.

The soup was almost forgotten in the moment, simmering quietly on the stove as they lost themselves in the shared task. It was only the gentle bubbling sound that reminded them, prompting a soft laugh from Angela as she stepped back, cheeks flushed with warmth.

Y/N turned, knife now expertly sharpened, and found Angela's eyes locked on his. For a moment, they stood there, the distance between them charged with unspoken words and possibilities.

With a playful smile, Angela turned back to the stove, ladling the soup into two bowls. "Dinner's ready," she announced, though the look she shared with Y/N promised more than just a shared meal.

As they sat down to enjoy the fruits of their labor, the classic tomato soup warming them from the inside out, Y/N realized that this evening was the beginning of something truly special. In the simple act of making dinner, they had woven a connection that felt as comforting and nourishing as the soup they shared.

As they settled into their meal, the atmosphere between Y/N and Angela softened, enveloped in the warmth of shared laughter and the rich, comforting aroma of the tomato soup. Angela was the first to breach the topic of their pasts, her voice a gentle cadence as she spoke of her journey into the medical field, her passion for helping others a clear beacon in her life.

Y/N listened, captivated, his own story feeling mundane in comparison. Yet, when he spoke of his own path, his struggles and triumphs, Angela lent him the same rapt attention, her eyes alight with genuine interest. Their conversation flowed effortlessly, layers peeling back to reveal the depth of their characters, each story and shared laughter drawing them closer.

As dinner came to an end, Y/N, inspired by a sudden impulse, rose to his feet, extending a hand towards Angela. "Would you like to dance?" he asked, a hint of nervousness in his voice. Without waiting for an answer, he pulled up a playlist on his phone, the room filling with the soft, intimate strains of a carefully selected mix of songs.

Angela accepted his hand, a playful smile dancing on her lips. They moved to the open space of the living room, the city lights outside casting a soft glow through the windows. At first, Y/N's movements were awkward, his steps uncertain. But Angela, with a gentle patience, guided him, her hands light on his shoulders, leading him into a rhythm that soon felt natural.

The music enveloped them, a chill, romantic soundtrack to the unfolding of a moment charged with a palpable, electric connection. Their bodies moved closer, the space between them charged with unspoken desires, their eyes locked in a gaze that spoke volumes.

In a movement that felt as natural as the dance, Angela tilted her face up towards Y/N, their lips meeting in a kiss that was gentle at first, then deepening with a passion that took them both by surprise. The kiss was a seal over the promises made in their shared glances, the laughter, and the stories of their past.

They broke apart, breathless, only to find themselves drawn back together by an invisible force, their hands exploring, touching, learning the landscapes of each other's bodies. They stumbled towards the couch, their movements fueled by a desire that had been simmering beneath the surface throughout the evening.

As they sank into the soft cushions, the world outside faded away, leaving only the sound of their breaths and the soft music that continued to play, a gentle accompaniment to the exploration of new territory. Their connection deepened with each touch, each kiss, a silent conversation that said more than words ever could.

In the privacy of Angela's apartment, with the night as their witness, Y/N and Angela found themselves crossing a threshold, embarking on a journey that was both exciting and terrifying in its intensity. It was a beginning, marked by the simplicity of a shared meal and a dance, yet promising the complexity of a connection that had the power to change everything.