Overwatch One Shots and Imagines

Angela 'Mercy' Ziegler- Beer (a)

Laughter and cheer filled the table of the pub as the Overwatch crew celebrated another victorious mission.

"Y/N..." Angela slumped onto your shoulder, giggling to herself as she did so "... I love you. Now come here, let me give you a kiss." She leant in but was pushed away by your hand.

"Angela, are you drunk?" You asked, counting the bottles on the table marked by the scarlet lipstick she had decided to wear that day.

"What?" She dismissed your statement with a flick of her hand. "I'm not drunk... I've only had...one... she tried to count on her fingers, holding her hands up to her head "...two... seven...".

"Thirteen. You've had thirteen Angela." She started to laugh uncontrollably, trying as hard as she could to twist the top off another bottle. "I can't... Y/N, can you help me just... t-take this top off? M-maybe later you can take my top off." She handed you the bottle, the top came off with relative ease.

"We've been together for three years now and I've never seen you drunk, what's got into you?" She raised the bottle to her lips and took a large swig, she then slammed the bottle on the desk and yelled for another to be brought over from the bar, wiping away the dribbles of alcohol that had begin to drip off of her chin.

"It was him...them... when did Reinhardt get a twin?" she pointed to Reinhardt with a genuine look of intrigue and concern on her face, he was sat across the table from the both of you, empty tankards scattered across his half of the table, placed around a tray with mountain of food that he was slowly making his way through. "H-h-he *hic* told me that it w-w-wasn't very strong."

"Reinhardt, did you get Angela drunk?" The lumbering giant roared with laughter and took three massive gulps from the frothy cup in his hand, finishing his tankard.

"It isn't strong *hic* to me, and the quiet ones *hic* are always the funniest when drunk." At that his consciousness left him and his head smashed against the table, sending glasses, bottles and tumblers bouncing on the table as a bellowing snore escaped him.

Angela caressed your cheek with sticky hands.

"I'm sorry *hic* Y/N, I just really love your face. Y/N..." Her face turned the slightest shade of green.

"Yes Angela?"

"Can you get me a bucket please?"

~*~

Written by Aaron.

Requested by