This was made in collaboration with an art piece by Theangrylesbians on tumblr, be sure to check her out!
Angela took a sip of her coffee and winced. Cold and bitter...then again it was from more than a few hours ago, maybe a whole twenty-four; Not like she bothered to count when she worked this long. She couldn't remember the last time she had seen a bed, much less her own. Angela blushed. She and Moira hadn't worked in the same lab since the latter had been reassigned to Blackwatch. It was a nice change not to be so distracted by each other, but it also meant their more private meetings were fewer and farther between. Instinctively, she squeezed her thighs together. Now was not the time to be thinking of that. But after writing out a few more lines, Angela slammed down her pencil in frustration. She had worked enough and it was time for...rest.
The walk between her own lab and Moira's was a complete blur, the caffeine jitters were the only thing to put a bounce in her step as she traveled through the expansive Overwatch facility. Gyms, labs, offices, and living quarters for those too busy to go home every night—or in Mister Jesse McCree's case, no home at all.
Moira's lab was in one of the lower levels of the facility; no windows but plenty of light and counter space. Despite how many different experiments she had going at once, the geneticist never seemed to appear frazzled and her laboratory reflected this. It was as crisp and spotless as she.
And yet she…was absent.
Angela shivered, over-sensitive from the very lack of sleep that brought her here in the first place, only to find that Moira had stepped out. Deciding to wait for her, Angela took a seat in her chair, absently looking through the open files on her computer. It seemed she had been going through older models of her costume. Angela couldn't help but chuckle to herself at some of the designs, so otherworldly they hardly even looked like Moira. But they all shared the common theme of a biotic storage rig strapped to her back. Angela shook her head, even the current model was quite bulky, only slimmed down from previous iterations thanks to Moira's highly controversial self-experimentation. It was a shame but as Moira insisted, a necessary sacrifice. Angela wasn't so sure.
As she continued to pour over the blueprints, her head slowly began to nod. The tentacles of one of Moira's more bizarre designs seemed to move subtly on their own, the dual colored eyes of the model burning into Angela's own. The robotic tentacles that framed the model swayed rhythmically, prehensile and sinister. She leaned back into the desk chair, by far the most comfortable thing in the entire room. Moira was more likely to sleep here than her own quarters or Angela's so she allowed herself one nice chair in a sea of instruments and blindingly white countertops.
But she couldn't seem to take her eyes off the model of Moira, and its eyes seemed to follow her right back. The rest of the laboratory was melting into the background of her subconscious. The model was ominous, tentacles that could heal or drain at the users will, and yet also oddly seductive. They were long, thick, and powerful. The type that could hold you down and make you feel helpless and weak...not that Angela would mind. Her face warmed slightly as visions entrapped her in a lucid dream, insistent as if they had a mind of their own. She leaned further back in the plush seating and the vision followed her, right off the screen and into the lab.
"How…?" Was all she could ask, no longer tired before one of the arms wrapped around her neck and mouth, careful of her windpipe and just tight enough to make her heart race.
Angela tried to grab for it, but her arms were held down as another arm wrapped around her torso. When the last two moved to her legs, Moira smiled at her. But it was unlike any smile she had given to Angela before. It was hungry, predatory. She held Angela aloft, slowly circling her restrained form as the prehensile arms slithered across the blond doctor's skin that only grew more sensitive as her clothes rode up with the movement.
"Moira—ah!" Angela was barely able to choke out the words.
"The state you...coming into my lab like this...seeking what exactly? Unable to stay away, is that it? Couldn't help yourself so you sought me out to give you what no other could? Not Morrison, or Reyes...or Shimada?"
Moira counted them off on her long and slender fingers, listing the last one off with some disdain. Angela blushed. That last tryst of hers had been...irresponsible to say the least. But she knew what Moira was doing. The shame, it only served to excite her more.
"N-No…"
"No, what?" The voice was soft like silk against the shell of her ear. Her lips traveled down Angela's neck and shoulders, patient even while Angela whined and struggled so wantonly.
"No they...can't!" She finally admitted, no longer struggling against the robotic bondage; rather, leaning into the gentle touch of Moira's hands as she slowly peeled off Angela's clothes. She didn't mind the cold lab now as those hands continued to roam her body. "Please, Moira...I need it, I need you…"
Moira seemed pleased to hear this, pulling Angela back until she was flush against her. "I know, angel...here, let me make it all better." The tentacles tightened around her thighs, spreading them enough for one to nestle against her core.
Angela gasped, already wet as the arm slicked itself with her juices. She quickly melted into the others hold. The arm moved in gentle waves, a steady pressure against her clit. Removing Angela's bra, Moira teased her nipples to stiff peaks, focusing on her lover's pleasure, seemingly unconcerned with taking any for herself.
"Tell me, angel...how does that feel?" She asked, littering Angela's neck with kisses and bites. Always a little pain to keep her on edge.
Angela could barely think, much less put together a coherent sentence.
Tugging at her hair, Moira commanded her attention, even as the tentacle began to move with more insistence. Angela's attentions were torn between the two.
"I—hah! Please, Moira…I—" That was enough for the apparition, capturing her lips in a heated kiss and swallowing her moans.
Moira moved to rub her eyes, only stopping when she remembered she was still wearing her biotic weapon from the testing range. That certainly explained why she felt so tired, lugging about the storage rig. Adjustments would need to be made to lighten that load. She carefully placed it on the nearest desk before plucking off the long nails from each finger.
It was the smell of coffee that first that drew her attention to Angela napping at her desk. Moira's eyebrow ticked up.
"Ziegler? What the devil are you here for, I'm working." Moira asked with a little sternness. She didn't care for unexpected company, even when it came in such an appealing package.
But as she drew closer, she noticed something strange about how restless Angela was in sleep. Her breathing was ragged, skin slightly clammy even in the cold office. Her thighs were spread slightly, as she was relaxed back in the chair. Moira would be lying if she said the latter wasn't the very first thing she noticed. Eyes narrowing, she leaned her tall form over the sleeping doctor, hesitantly reaching out to give her a light shake.
But then Angela moaned in her sleep. It was a sound Moira was quite familiar with, and as much as she would like to wake the other, another idea popped into her head. No, instead her hand drifted down the hem of Angela's skirt, shifting it up to find her panties drenched and a heady smell filled Moira's senses. She groaned, flushing slightly. Angela was always so...responsive to her touch, and tonight was no exception. With one hand supporting her on the back of the chair, Moira leaned closer until she was pressed against her sleeping lover, feeling her heartbeat and shivering at the feel of her ragged breaths against her ear. Pushing aside the arousal soaked material, Moira gently circled Angela's clit with her thumb, testing the waters. Angela spread her thighs further so Moira traced the column of Angela's neck with her tongue before latching on to leave a nice mark somewhere conspicuous. Angela hated hickies, but serves her right for falling asleep this way.
"Cad a dhéanann aisling faoi aingeal?" She asked, more to herself, but the answer she got shot straight to Moira's core.
"Moira...please...don't tease—I need you…"
She glanced up, only to see her lover still very much asleep. Moira was smirking ear to ear as she decided it was in fact time to stop teasing. Wrapping one creamy thigh around her waist, Moira watched the other's face intently as a blush spread across her own. Even in sleep Angela was a sight to behold when aroused. Moira slipped one finger into her, then a second, curling and rolling them, feeling the texture of Angela's velvety walls. Half the fun of bedding such a lovely creature was experimenting to see what made her whimper, moan, hiss, and scream. Was it really any wonder she always came back? No matter how much they fought or slammed doors in the others face. It was a connection neither could sever even if they wanted to.
She pumped her fingers more insistently now, burying her face in Angela's hair to take in the scent of roses and honey that lingered persistently there, almost as an aspect of the woman's very being.
In the realm of dreams Angela was a mess, all senses heightened. She kissed the apparition fervently, bucking against the blood-red tentacle as it writhed between her legs.
"Oh...mien gott! Moira...scheisse...Moira!" Angela gasped as moved back to her neck with her hands stroking her little victim's inner thighs, dragging nails across every sensitive inch of trembling flesh.
Even in a dream she was self-conscious about being caught in a public place. Angela glanced to the door only to come face to face with...Moira? Wait...No that was definitely her, crisp black button down and all. She replaced the apparition's lips with her own. Angela looked down to see Moira fingering her even as the tentacle moved between her legs. The sight made her groan. It was too much! And yet both persisted, even when she begged them to slow down, she was on the precipice, with two irresistible women shoving her over the edge.
It was an orgasm that finally woke Angela, her moans echoing through the lab that Moira had thankfully soundproofed. Not even glancing up, Moira rolled Angela's top up to get at her breasts, licking the sweat from her skin even as the other caught her breath and tried to speak.
"Doctor O'Deorain...I meant to—"
"Find me here? You did in some form or fashion." She finished, speculating on just what Angela had dreamt about. The answer was provided when she saw what was still pulled up on her computer screen.
"And I believe we are far past using last names by now, Angela. Tá do thábhachtaí dom contúirteach…"
"What was that?" Angela asked, but Moira's fingers were back at her core, distracting her from any further questioning.
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Google translated:
*"what do angels dream about?"
*"Oh...my god! Moira...shit...Moira!"
*"your importance to me is dangerous"