Overwatch ? Reader Insert Oneshots

No prompt for this one, but join my discord server. I'll leave a link to it in an inline comment here.

[Rating: PG13]
[Word count: 1718]
[Summary: You found family in Junkrat and Roadhog.]
[Genre: oh mY GOD fluff, wholesome and innocent fluff]
[Unedited]

     The life of a junker was never glamorous. It often left you hungry, sweaty, and covered in grease. On the days you'd entered your mechs into battles in the Scrapyard, you tended to come home bruised and battered. Those rough, deadly gladiator fights were only ever a last resort for you, a solution for when you needed materials to barter with so you wouldn't starve to death. Life was always something you'd had to claw your way through, and it led to you often holding your own survival in priority over your humanity.

     At the same time, being a Junker was liberating. You were free to create, to build contraptions and inventions to your liking, even if their functions caused more harm than good. Nobody could stop you. In fact, your chaotic love of tinkering was encouraged by the community, the more dangerous creations of yours always being the most respected. The only people whose opinions you actually cared about, though, were the two members of your family.

     Family wasn't a term used by many in Junkertown, but it was something you'd found in Junkrat and Roadhog.

     Junkrat, though enthusiastic and unpredictable to a hazardous degree, was a great tester for prototypes of yours. Nothing, no matter how sharp or explosive you built it, could kill him. Some wondered how they could endure nuclear fallout, but Junkrat didn't have to; he clearly had survival ingrained in his DNA. It always brought a smile to your face to hear his rushed words of praise and mentions of incorporating bombs or mines into your work. He was a constant source of support for you.

     Conversely, Roadhog was a silent beacon of . . . well, you weren't quite sure. But he was important to your working process. Sure, you didn't really know how he fit into it, but engineering wouldn't feel quite right if he wasn't there to soundlessly observe you. As a bonus, he could also absolutely crush anybody who threatened you or Junkrat (of course, it was usually Junkrat being threatened).

     You loved them both. Even when they got you kicked out of Junkertown.

     Even when they dragged you across the globe, bringing you into all sorts of grand heists. Even though you were arrested by the authorities in six countries (only to be broken out) and were now wanted in twelve. Yes, your love for your makeshift family was definitely unconditional.

     "Sorry about that, Sheila." Junkrat's familiarly wavering laugh filled the dirty motel room. You'd just barely managed to loot the last bank, some obscure establishment located in rural China. The cops had shown up when Junkrat triggered the alarm, and they would've gotten you if Roadhog hadn't snatched you up and made a hasty escape. "I oughta figure you don't want to serve any more jailtime than you already have."

     You nodded, not looking up from the pile of metal bits and pieces in front of you. Your hands were sore after hours of twisting little nuts and bolts, but the feeling was welcome. It reminded you of home. "It's okay. Would've been a minor setback," you muttered, your manner of speaking hushed. Talking hadn't been an easy task for you since the nuclear fallout of Australia, and you only ever spoke to Junkrat and Roadhog because of it. "You always break me out."

     "Always, always," Junkrat assented, bouncing up and down in his seat on the bed. "Can't have our little inventor stolen away from us, now can we? Not with all the alarm systems you've disabled for us."

      Roadhog grunted in agreement, ruffling your hair as he walked past you on his way to the bed.

     Your eyes remained on the rickety contraption in front of you. "Couldn't disable this one. Failed. Got us into trouble."