Tracer (Overwatch)

The coffee machine gurgled like a dying man, **** out a single, mocking drop of brown water into his 'World's Okayest Employee' mug. Before sputtering back to sleep like a three AM smoker. Anon stared at it, wondering if this counted as human interaction for the day. Or if he would be **** to make small talk with his collection of plants scattering his apartment windows like an overgrown jungle. Which in his honest opinion was much better than collecting Cats or Dogs like most lonely twenty years old. Especially one struggling ever closer towards thirty without a wife, kids, or any sort of deeper meaning beyond the latest video game or finding a semi reliable job that doesn’t make him want to kill himself.

"For a machine that costs one whole website debugging commission, you suck at your job." he muttered, poking the 'brew' button again. The machine responded by dripping out another drop, reminding Anon that the commission wasn’t that impressive, just like this second hand coffee machine from the downstairs grandma that was the best he could afford. A chime sounded in the background. A reminder his third Zoom meeting this week started in seven minutes, and he wouldn’t have a beverage to hide his grimacing face at the plastic smiles of HR pretending they were still useful after the whole Programming team started working from home. A sound like shattering glass came from his bedroom. Anon didn't move. The neighbors' cat probably knocked over something again. Then came the laughter. Bright, unhinged excitement, and definitely not a cat.

"Oi! You the bloke who wished for a proper adventure?" The voice was British, female, and already halfway through his fridge before he turned the corner. Anon’s fingers twitched toward the house keys in his pocket, trying to remember that trick his friend showed where you clutched it with your thumb and used it like a mini shank. Not that it would do much against whatever had just broken into his apartment, they had to have been a fully fledged ninja to sneak into an apartment on the third story without opening the front door. But when he rounded the corner, his grip slackened. A woman in a bomber jacket and goggles perched on his kitchen counter, legs swinging in orange tights that emphasized her camel toe tastefully, mouth full of his leftover Chinese takeout. Her sneakers left scuff marks on his laminate. Before she kicked them off with an annoyed huff, exposing her orange socks to the world.

"Bloody hell, you’re real," he managed, staring at the pulse pistols strapped to her thighs. Her thick thighs that looked ready to kick ass and strong enough to jump several feet in the air. Anon quickly looked upward, blushing a little at getting caught looking if that sly smile on her face was any sign. Lena Oxford, as if it could be anyone else, grinned around a mouthful of cold lo mein. Bright shiny teeth, a button nose flecked with freckles, and auburn hair cut short and spikey. She didn’t feel real. Not in the sense that she was a video game character, and one of Anon’s most popular animated character searches on porn Hub, but in other little ways. She moved just a little too fast and smooth, almost like he was staring at a car rather than a person. Her face too was too perfectly symmetrical, like she had walked off a movie set with her make up and the lighting all professionally done. Even while she was slurping loudly on some sauce covered noodles.

"Of course I am, love! It's a bit rude to summon a girl and then act all surprised when she shows up." She hopped down, landing toe-to-toe with him. Lena was short in person. Very shot, barely over five foot two with a long pair of heels or in the case standing upright on her tippy toes. That didn’t make her seem any less small up close, smelling like ozone and cherry chapstick. His monitor pinged from the other room, the meeting counting down in ninety seconds. Lena’s nose wrinkled like she smelled something nasty. "That's your boss? Tell ‘em to sod off. We’ve got ‘proper’ work to do."

"I can’t just…" Anon tried to start, but she was already dragging him toward the bedroom. Her laughter bounced off the walls shamelessly as she grabbed at his wrist. Lena’s grip was warm and calloused. Anon’s wrist burned where her fingers dug in. Not painful, but electric like he was caught sticking a fork in an outlet. The Zoom notification chimed again. His laptop screen lit up with fifteen pixelated faces when they barreled past it. Someone’s disembodied voice crackled through the speakers about Anon being on mute. Lena kicked the door shut with her heel without any preamble or excuse. The last thing his coworkers saw was a blur of an orange bomber jacket and a very proud middle finger.

"You’re mental," Anon wheezed as she shoved him hard onto the bed. His back hit the mattress with enough speed to bounce. Lena didn’t wait to straddle his hips, already fiddling with his buckle. Her goggles askew upward and her chest heaving. Up close, her pupils were blown impossibly wide like she was on some kind of ****. Not just with lust, but the sheer velocity of existing.

"I don’t know if I told you, love. But I like going as fast as possible." She yanked her jacket down, but let it pool down at her behind like a belt. Her sports bra riding up to reveal a strip of toned abdomen tight enough you could see the beginning of a six pack. Anon’s throat went dry. This wasn’t how his fantasies went. In his head, there’d been more preamble. Lena didn’t do the preamble. Seemed almost offended at the suggestion.

"Christ, you’re worse than a bloke who’s never seen a bird before," Lena muttered as she shifted back and forth letting her famous ass settle around in his lap, but there was a grin tugging at her lips she couldn’t hide. Anon’s hands hovered awkwardly over Lena’s hips, unsure where to land or grab at. Lena rolled her eyes, actually rolled them like she was the one who picked him out, and grabbed his wrists with one hand and slammed them against the bed frame with a thud. She liked being in charge and having her man looking up at her like a goddess, Anon was quickly realizing. Or woman, Anon would have to ask about that later. When Lena’s knee wasn’t pressed between his thighs and his hardening length, all while Anon made a sound that was absolutely not a squeak. The pulse pistol holster clattered to the side as Lena yanked Anon's belt open with her teeth. Finally giving up on trying to get it down with her deft fingers. He barely had time to process the leather snapping against his hips before she'd freed him, her fingers wrapping around his cock with a confidence that made his vision blur at the edges.

"Oh you're perfect," she breathed, thumb swiping over the head, smearing the precum on her finger. Before she popped it into her mouth and sucked the digit clean with a groan of approval. When her thumb popped back out, Lena pleased it on the bottom of his cock along his ridge to help line everything up. Then she was sinking onto him, taking him whole in one fluid motion that punched the air from both their lungs. Anon's fingers scrabbled at the bed sheets, his back arching off the mattress. There was no slow buildup, no tentative exploration, just Lena's boiling heat surrounding him. Her fat thighs pressing and slapping against his hips as she rolled her hips forward with a delighted gasp.

"Fuck condoms, yeah?" she panted, already rocking against him. Letting her bomber jacket hang open to reveal the light bounce of her apple sized breasts. Both little moons packed tight under a black sports bra. "Got myself proper working ovaries when I popped into this universe. No more temporal problems to hold me back."

The Zoom meeting notification pinged again from the other room. Lena growled, actually growled at the momentary distraction, before reaching behind to tear Anon's phone from the nightstand. Then she threw it against the wall without looking. The plastic crunching against the drywall. She gave a satisfied nod at the now broken device, before leaning down to nip at his collarbone. "Only focus on me, love. You're thinking so loud I can hear it in the back of my ears."

Anon opened his mouth, to protest, to ask questions, maybe scream, but Lena seized his face in both hands and kissed him hard. Her tongue swept past his teeth, tasting of stolen lo mein and cherry chapstick, and suddenly he couldn't remember what he'd been worried about. Her hips moved in tight circles, coaxing a broken moan from his throat. When she finally pulled back, her lips were swollen, her goggles fogged. Grinning that impossible grin as she leaned into mummer. "There you are. Told you we'd figure it out."

“Oh, you are gonna be so much fun," she purred, leaning forward until her chest pressed against his. The fabric of her undershirt dragged against his bare skin. Then Lena lifted herself up, just just slowly enough to tease. Letting his weeping cockhead rub up, but not penetrate her pussy's lips. Before dropping back down with a wet slap of skin. Anon's vision whited out as he was back inside her heat. Her lips like silk wrapped rubber bands with how tight and smooth she was. Somewhere in the haze, he registered Lena laughing as she pinned his wrists again, her thighs flexing around him hard enough his cock inside her could feel it. "Bet I can make you come just like this, yeah? No hands, just me."

The pulse pistol holster clattered before falling down off the bed towards the floorboards as she shifted, her sock clad feet digging into the mattress for leverage. Anon could only nod dumbly, his entire world narrowed to the slide of her body, the press of her breasts against his chest, the way her breath hitched when he experimentally bucked his hips upward. Lena rewarded him with a sharp gasp and a playful bite to his earlobe. She breathed out a curse about cheeky buggers as her rhythm stuttered for the first time. Her thighs trembled slightly as his hand traveled along her thick and powerful thighs. Outside, a car alarm started wailing. Lena didn't even glance toward the window.

"Ignore that," Lena ordered, riding him faster now. Her fingernails scored red lines down his forearms while her thighs started slapping against his in an applause of sweaty **** contact. "Ignore everything that's not me."

Anon obeyed, his hands finally finding purchase on her hips, pulling her down harder with each thrust. Feeling the plush fat and subtle muscles underneath stretching out those sexy orange sweat pants he wished he could rip open with his teeth. Lena's laughter turned breathless, her cunt clenching around him in erratic pulses. The last coherent thought Anon had was that he'd never seen anyone come apart like this. It was like a supernova, all bright light and collapsing gravity. Lena threw her head back with a cry, her whole body shuddering in waves that had her pussy clenching and squirting all over his chest each pulse. The sight alone sent him tumbling after her as he gushed what felt like years of his life inside her greedy, shuddering hole. She collapsed onto his chest moments later, her pulse pistols digging uncomfortably into his ribs, her breath hot against his throat as she kissed and licked his Adams apple. Anon's breath hitched when Lena's grip softened. Her fingers, which had been digging into his wrists like she was afraid he'd vanish, relaxed into something tender. Guiding his hands from atop the headboard, and down in between their shared heat. The shift was so sudden it startled him more than the sex had.

"I haven't... uh, been with anyone in years." he stammered, suddenly aware of how pathetic it sounded. He braced for the laugh, the eye roll, the inevitable bloody hell, really? Instead, Lena kissed him. Not the frantic, teeth-clashing thing from before. This was slow and deliberate, her lips pressing into his like she was mapping the shape of them. Her face so close their teeth could’ve nipped at each other's gums. When she finally pulled back, his lungs burned for air. Her goggles were still fogged, her cheeks flushed, but her smile was small, almost shy.

"S'alright, love," Lena murmured holding back a drawn out yawn, her thumb brushing his lower lip. "We've got our whole lives to figure this out. No need to over-complicate things."

Anon blinked. Whole lives. The words lodged in his chest like a stray bullet. He opened his mouth, to ask if she meant that. If genie rules worked like that? If she'd still be here tomorrow? Please could she stay. But Lena silenced him with another kiss, this one softer, sweeter. Her fingers carded through his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and something in him unwound. Her tone was more than a little cheeky as she exclaimed. "This is the best part about sex, other than the sex, innit?

"The Afterglow. No stress, no expectations. Just you, me, and all the cuddles." Lena giggled as she rolled off him with a satisfied sigh, flopping beside him. The bed creaked ominously as she stretched her arms above her head. A few pops in her back sounding off. Lena grinned harder when Anon snorted. Jabbing his side a little in mock offense. "What? You think I'm all Go! Go! Go! Even Tracer needs a lie-down sometimes."

“It lets us get our heads straight, so we can talk about things without bickering.” Lena supplied that last part with a teasing grin, remembering full well the panicked screech he gave her all the way back in the kitchen. Anon didn’t take the bait. He studied her profile instead like an art piece. The smudge of grease on her cheekbone, the way her nose scrunched up when she laughed. Real. She was real. His fingers twitched toward her, then retreated cowardly. Lena didn't hesitate; she grabbed his hand and pressed it flat against her sternum. His palm felt her diamond hard nipples poking through her sports bra, but all he could focus on was a heartbeat thudded painfully fast against his..

"See? Told you I was properly alive." Lena whispered conspiratorially, blowing on his ear a little. Her free hand tracing idle patterns on his chest. "It’s different from your screens and your pixels, yeah?"

"Yeah." Anon swallowed out. His throat was raw and the word came out cracked. Lena's fingers still. For a terrifying second, he thought she'd pull away, but then she shifted closer. Tucking herself against his side, her head pillowed on his shoulder. Her hair smelled like cheap citrus shampoo. Outside, the car alarm finally died. The silence it left behind felt enormous, like the whole city and not just them was holding its breath. Lena's fingers rubbed into Anon's side. Not teasing, just a constant reminder she was there and as real as the sweat cooling on his skin.

"Whole lives," Anon repeated out loud, testing the weight of it. His voice sounded strange to his own ears. Hoarse, but not from screaming. Something quieter. Lena hummed against his collarbone, her breath warm.

"Course, love. Unless you'd rather I bugger off after one shag?" She flicked his nipple playfully, just to watch him jump. Her teeth quickly nipped at his collar bone since she liked his little reactions so much. Anon's hand clutched at her hips hard enough to leave indents in the skin. Before quickly pulling back. He didn't mean to act all possessive. Yet Lena just laughed, but not cruelly or angrily. It was all relieved, bright huffs like sunlight through dirty windows. Her heart secretly racing as bad as Anon’s at the idea of him leaving.

"Sorry 'bout the scratches. Got carried away." Lena's fingers traced the red marks she'd left on his chest in a tone that didn't sound sorry at all. Anon wasn’t bothered at all. He was smart enough to just nod his head dumbly when the beautiful girl asked you something. His whole body felt like it had been through a blender, but the good kind. The kind that left him loose limbed, a little proud, and drowsy.

“You're really staying?" Anon caught her wrist. Her pulse jumped under his fingers. The question slipped out before he could stop it, despite the fact a whimper would’ve been less embarrassing than his **** plea.

Lena stilled. For a heartbeat, she looked, not uncertain, never when making choices with her heart, but calculating. Almost like she was measuring the distance between them in units he didn't understand. Then she grinned, sharp and sudden as she flopped onto her back. Spreading her arms wide like she was ready to showcase the entire world before them. "Told you, didn't I? I move as fast as possible. That means forever too, if you want it."

"What if I'm shit at this?" Anon muttered, settling back and feeling the bed groan under their combined weight. His eyes followed the water stain on his ceiling, the one shaped like Australia he had named Bruce and probably his only companion for years at this point. Lena's knee bumped him, almost admonishing his self deprecation.

"At shagging? You're brilliant." She wiggled her toes against his calf, groaning a little at those words. Because right then Lena felt his warmth settling inside her. Something perfectly hot and refreshing like a fresh cup of really good Swiss hot chocolate Angela made during the holidays. Before she refocused. Lena's fingers quickly find his and laced them together. Letting her rough callouses catch on his knuckles. Before Lena's voice dipped husky with unspoken promises. "All the rest? We'll learn together."

"Besides, I'm properly terrible at sitting still. You'll balance me out." Lena mumbled that last part turning away to look up at the ceiling too, thinking of something or memories only she would know. Anon turned his head to look at her for once. Really look. Her goggles askew. Her tanned skin was blushing. Her dimpled smile soft and a little nervous, with her lips softly huffing from how good they fucked. There was a tiny bit of lo mein sauce smeared near her collarbone. He'd never seen anything more alive. Lena caught him looking and smirked. "See something you like, love?"

"Yeah." he admitted, surprising himself with his confidence. Her smirk softened into something warmer. It became something smug when his hands reached for her hips for round two.