Scourge of Overwatch (Junkrat X Reader)

6: Landmine

The dull hum of jets coming to land at the Overwatch base fills your ears. They are constant and timed, almost as if they are acting as a metronome. You've come to find the whirring to be relaxing and peaceful. It gives you ample time to clear your head and continue to work without feeling uneasy. To anyone who hasn't found this solace, the strong smell of motor oil and burning metal would definitely be singed into their senses. You are content with your tasks and proceed to clean your workbench. It's been a rather good day, aside of the morning's events. You even had the honor of being invited to a celebration of the rejuvenation of the OR15 units in Numbani by Symmetra herself. You were giddy with excitement. You almost skip with your toolkit in hand, looking up at the orange blossom sunset as you exit the garage. You suddenly come to a halt as you feel the toolkit burst open.

"Damn," you sigh in embarrassment as some of the engineers snicker at your clumsiness. You crouch on the floor and pick up the stray tools, noticing the clasp on your kit was loose. No wonder it broke. As you defeatedly, place the tools in their proper places, you feel a presence in front of you. You look up to be greeted by a mechanical hand. An omnic male forms a gentle expression via his illuminated face.

"Do you require assistance, miss?"

"I'm okay, thank you," you smile at him as you manually close the top of the toolkit.

"I insist, I am most likely able to mend your damaged carrier," the omnic lowers himself beside you. You are about to object once more, but are quickly cut off by someone behind you.

"She said she doesn't need help, you cucky piece of scrap," Junkrat growls as he violently brings you up onto your feet by your shoulders. The toolkit drops once more as he makes a scene.

"What the hell, Jamison? You made me drop my stuff! What is your problem? Let me go!" You thrash a bit as he restrains your arms and lifts you away.

"That bot has no business talking to you," His dirty, rugged, nails dig into your bare skin as onlookers stare.

"Why would you say something so degrading! That omnic was trying to be polite," you huff as he tosses you onto the carpeted floor of the dormitory hallway.

"Does it sound like I give an actual fuck about being nice to some machine? It's just that, a fuckin' machine, mate. Nothing more, nothing less. It has no feelings and it has no sense of humanity, why should I care." He angrily bellows as he runs his hands through his hair. "Don't you see? It's all a political facade." He continues to ramble nonsense as you back away from him.

"You really are insane, Jamison, stop it. You are estranged," you quietly speak. He looks down at you and groans in frustration, grabbing a fistful of your hair and kicking open his door with his peg. You yelp as he lifts you up and pins you down on his mattress. As the door swings shut, he plants a deep kiss onto your lips. You stare at him wide-eyed. You are beyond confused. Suddenly he shoots up and screams.

"FUCK, God, oh fuck, what did I do! I just snatched this girl in broad daylight! People saw, people saw! If word gets out, I'm definitely not gonna be able to have access to my beauts, my fuckin' explosives!" He stomps and holds his head, forgetting your presence for a minute. He peers over to you, hand over his mouth. He places his hands back down as his approaches you. He silently places his hand on your thigh, almost in awe.

"Jamison, what are you doing?" You sheepishly utter. He leans in to kiss you, gripping your thigh in his hand as he lowers you back down. You wonder if he really was that pompous bastard he gave the impression of in the first place.

"Can omnics pleasure humans? Bet I can please your pretty self." He chuckles as he bites your shoulder.  Yes, he is a pompous bastard. You blush brighter as you attempt to push him off. "Can nuts and bolts do that?" He swiftly tugs down your pants and trails his fingers along the fabric of your panties. "Can they?"

"Jamison, please..." You let out a breathy moan. He kisses your lips and begins to grind himself against you. You moan softly and submit to him. Before anything else could progress, the door opens abruptly. You and Junkrat both look up. A big, portly man stands still at the door, holding a Wendy's Baconator sandwich on a porcelain plate. He grunts through his hog-like gas mask and closes the door.

"Roadie!" He squeaks and stands up, rushing after his big boned friend.

Good Lord.

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