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female Overwatch - the Sniper, the Angel, and the Hacker (Warning: Messing)


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Dunno about you guys, but I LOVE women messing in their armor, so thought I'd throw in some of that. Here's the third and possibly final installment of my Overwatch stories, but I have ideas for other stories, in particular some World of Warcraft ones.

As always, hope you guys enjoy.

 

Pharah took flight. The jetpacks on her Raptorion suit made her an absolute menace to her ground-locked opponents. She quite enjoyed her reputation as a harbinger of death and destruction. How many battles had she won, simply because she’d been out-of-reach of her enemies?

 

Even from high altitudes, she could still see how the occasional enemy would wet themselves at the mere sight of her. And if just seeing her didn’t do it, the ensuing barrage of rocket-fire would certainly get them in need of a fresh pair of underwear.

 

She was always amused by her opponents’ weakness in this regard; she had never had an accident, not since she was a child. She’d kept her pants and boxer briefs (she preferred them to panties) clean on every mission. Some people, Tracer, in particular, were sure she was lying, but it was the truth. And after Zarya’s last mission, she was fairly sure she was now the only operative to have never done it at some point or another.

 

She was kind of disappointed to see the giant woman return with soggy, filthy pants, as she’d figured Zarya was above that. She was also somewhat pleased, as this solidified that she was the only one with enough control to keep from making a puddle in her pants.

 

As she looked at the battlefield of Route 66 below, she tried to spot enemy stragglers who strayed too far from their teams. Before long, she spotted the nefarious Sombra emerging from invisibility. Firing a quick few rockets, Sombra quickly cloaked and fled. Her invisibility was ineffective, however, as a trail of urine fell upon the ground wherever her unseeable body ran. She decided not to pursue her, and to let her live with shame.

 

Looking around the battle below, she spotted Tracer in a bit of a pinch, she appeared to be stuck in one of Junkrat’s traps.

 

--------------------------------------------

 

Tracer sprinted through a cave, occasionally using her dash to blink ahead several feet. As she exited through the mouth of the cave, she came to an immediate halt as searing pain shot through her right leg. She was only somewhat aware of the small jet of hot liquid that soaked her crotch when this happened.

 

She shouted in pain, and looked down to see a very crude bear-trap holding her leg hostage. She holstered her twin smgs, and bent over in a position like she was tying her shoe; if only her situation were so innocent. She tried rather desperately to pull the jaws of the trap apart, before…

 

Oh, crap.

 

Mad laughter that sounded more like a hyena’s than a person’s echoed around her. Junkrat. He had some sixth sense to know when someone stepped in one of his infernal traps. He looked at her with an insane glare, clearly fantasizing about what she’d look like when she was in a million pieces. He pulled out his grenade launcher, while Tracer unloaded some “grenades” of her own.

 

At the sight of the weapon that heralded impending doom, her continence simply… failed. She vainly covered her head with her arms, trembling slightly as her bladder poured hot piss through her tight, orange leggings. With one knee on the ground, the wetness ran down her left thigh, thoroughly soaking it in her liquid fear. At the exact same moment, a loud SQRLLTCH could be heard from her butt. Her mess came out fast and hard, in one second, it was inside her body, in the next, her cute and (formerly) pink panties. The warm muck settled comfortably in the space between her cheeks, as her pants offered little resistance.

 

She was about to die, and she was ashamed that her last moments were going to be characterized by totally wetting and soiling herself.

 

...Except, she wasn’t dead. She looked up, and looked around for Junkrat, only to see him running after trying in vain to pair his grenade launcher against the airborne Pharah’s rocket launcher. And that means…

 

Pharah saved her. Couldn’t it have been anyone else?

 

In an immediate denial of her wish, the heavily-armored soldier landed in front of her, and began to help pull the trap apart.

 

“Are you alright, Tracer?” Pharah asked, genuine concern in her voice. Judgmental as she was, she was still nice.

 

“Yeah, fine, luv, just… shaken” Tracer answered, blushing as she fully realized her accident, wiggling her legs a bit feeling her mess squish around in the seat of her pants.

 

“You sure don’t take it easy on your clothes, do you?” Here it comes, Tracer thought, “you know, you could always wear diapers like Hana and Mei,” though those two think it’s a secret, just about everyone on the team had known for some time about their choice of attire.

 

“These things happen, luv. I still think you’re lying about never having to clean the seat of that armor!” Tracer replied, teasingly, giving a playful pat to Pharah’s armor-clad bum.

 

“I promise you, Tracer, I’ve never lost control of my bladder or bowels for any reason,” Pharah said with a slight smirk.

 

“Uh-huh. Well, we should probably get back to it,” Tracer said, re-drawing her guns and dashing back into the fray as Pharah finally pulled the trap open.

 

-------------------------------------


She’s nothing if not tenacious, Thought Pharah, a river of pee down one leg, and a huge load on her butt, and she sprints back into combat. The only other person I know with that level of commitment is Widow-

 

WIDOWMAKER!!

 

Her thoughts were interrupted when she suddenly spotted the sniper in the distance, taking aim at her. Pharah hit the jet boost, and took flight. Widow tried to account for this, but was unable to time the shot correctly, instead taking off Pharah’s helmet.

 

She flew high into the air, and fired a concussive grenade from her arm, hitting the ground near Widow, the force propelling her into a wall. She fell down, and even from this distance, Pharah could see the small lake of pee form around Widow’s thighs as she sat against the wall.

 

She also could feel a horrible, wet warmth cascading down her legs, and falling through the gaps in her armor, creating an acidic, yellow rain for anyone below her. She was… peeing. In her armor. In her pants. In her underwear. And because she was scared. She finally felt her stream dying down, but the damage was done. The clothes she wore under her armor would be completely soaked.

 

She was so distraught, she hardly even noticed the battle still going on until a few stray bullets flew towards her. She resumed fighting, but she was most definitely not bringing her A game, now.

 

-------------------------------------

 

Symmetra momentarily poked her head out of her impromptu base, and saw the enemy Pharah there. Just as she was about to charge her with her particle beam cannon, the Pharah suddenly took flight, a bullet from her team’s sniper knocking Pharah’s helmet off. Then it started… raining? Did  Pharah’s suit spring a leak or something? No wait. That wasn’t oil. It was Pharah who sprung a leak.

 

She laughed, then retreated into her base. She’d built a shield generator and a wall of small turrets to protect it. So far, no one had been able to even entertain the thought of breaching her sanctum, but she saw someone running to try their hand at it… Tracer.

 

Who had evidently been somewhat frightened, given the telltale stain on her pants. Symmetra readied her gun for the fight, but suddenly Tracer was gone. A blue flash raced by her, faster than anything she’d ever seen, and it rushed straight for her shield generator. Symmetra dived towards it, trying to protect it, when Tracer suddenly left the building. Symmetra was confused, until she heard a faint clicking. She looked down, and saw that Tracer had done more than just stop by to say “hello”.

 

She’d left a pulse bomb.

 

It’s amazing how much can happen in only a couple seconds. It felt like hours, during which Symmetra used her hard-light generator to project a shield barrier in front of her self. If she couldn’t save the generator, she was at least going to save herself. As this happened, her bowels released. A semisolid mess caused her “pants” (they were basically just panties, really) to bulge out considerably. For several moments after the blast had destroyed her work, she still stood stunned, loud sounds of plplbplbplbpllbplpb the only thing occupying the silence, as she continued to fill her shorts, despite now being safe.

 

She decided to fall back, set up a new base, and, if possible, find new pants.

 

-------------------------------------

 

Pharah was simply in disbelief. Her boxer briefs clung uncomfortably to her privates, and, along with her damp pants, served to keep her from actually focusing on her mission. Her aim was sloppy, her timing was off, and her confidence had evaporated. She found herself regularly peeing out little spurts at the slightest provocation.

 

A bullet whizzes by, psssssss.

 

A large explosion goes off, not even near her, psssssss.

 

Her jetpack momentarily runs out of juice, leaving her falling for just a second, pssssssssssssss.

 

Her crotch was being constantly re-warmed by her fear. She had never quite known shame like this; not just in her lapse in continence, but in her treatment of her colleagues. She’d ridiculed them for their accidents, and now she was in exactly the same boat. How could she ever show her face to them again?

 

She guessed she’d just have to- WOAH!!

 

Suddenly she was forcefully yanked from the sky, and slammed into the ground, lying on her stomach. She looked up to see the source of her sudden plummeting, trying to ignore the new warmth in her briefs. Her terror tripled at the sight of the killer in front of her. Roadhog, Junkrat’s partner, had used his hook to pluck her right out of the sky, and now she was staring down the barrel of his enormous shotgun, which he pressed rather sadistically into her face.

 

She was a very competent soldier. She had one of the most untarnished records of successes in history. She was always on top of the situation. But today, things were very different. Today, she saw the certainty of death looking her in the face, something she’d never seen before. She didn’t fare too well.

 

Her bowels began to steadily void, pushing mass after mass into her boxer briefs. Her armor didn’t let it expand too much, however, and it began to flatten and spread across her butt. Some of it even made its way nearly down to her crotch. Roadhog seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, just… watching in his strange, unsettling way. His finger began to squeeze the trigger, and suddenly Pharah felt herself lifted up, into the air a couple feet.

 

She blinked a few times, and suddenly she was hundreds of feet away from the spot she was supposed to die at. She looked up to see Tracer smiling down on her. She’d jumped in at the last possible second, and managed to warp her to safety.

 

Tracer helped Pharah to stand, then said “Don’t worry, luv, I’ve had my eye on you since you pissed your knickers in the air,” Pharah blushed, then cringed as she felt her considerable accident mushing about in her briefs. Her entire ass was covered, and her legs felt wetter than ever. No amount of showering would maker her feel clean again.

 

“Tracer, I-” Pharah began, but was cut off by Tracer putting a finger over her mouth.

 

“Don’t worry, Fareeha, we’ve got it from here. Why don’t you go check with Mercy to make sure you aren’t hurt too bad, eh?” Tracer said, with a friendly smile. Looking around, it seemed like they really did have the bad guys on the run, and the offer was tempting, but…

 

“Thanks, Tracer, but if you can tough it out, I can, too,” Pharah said, drawing her weapon and giving her most determined smile.

 

“That’s the spirit!” Tracer threw her arms up in cheer.

 

Pharah took flight, and was suddenly back to her normal self, blowing any obstacles apart with laser-like precision. She foulness in her pants was still unpleasant, but she could ignore it, now. With she and Tracer with them, their team won in just a couple of minutes.

 

-------------------------------------

 

Tracer and Pharah were in the women’s locker room, extremely happy to be taking off their remarkably soiled clothes. Pharah had entered just in time to see Tracer about to slide her wet pants down. The huge bulge in the seat of them had been ground down somewhat, and a large brown stain occupied the butt of her pants, and down the things a bit. She slid her orange pants down, revealing a pair of frilly, pink panties; now yellowed in the front and browned in the back, with the bulge still showing. It was about the size of her fist.

 

Tracer, herself seemed to be inspecting the damage, then mournfully stated, “Aw man, I was gonna wear this pair for Emily tonight,” as she reached back and felt the bulge.

 

“She’s not into her superhero girlfriend getting scared and having accidents?” Pharah asked jokingly.

 

“Nah, kinda kills the illusion,” she said, feeling the wet crotch of her panties, “How’d yours do? Your mess can’t have been this bad,”.

 

Pharah blushed a little bit as she began to exit her armor, “We’ll, um, we’ll see about that...” her meaning became clear as she stepped around the suit and Tracer could see the wet stain on her combat fatigues. The entire inner half of them had been completely soaked, with some rivulets and flowing all the way around the other side of her legs. Like Tracer’s pants, they’d turned completely brown at the back. She dropped her pants, revealing her gray boxer briefs. They were almost one-hundred-percent soaked on all sides, and a massive, lumpy bulge occupied the entire back half.

 

Tracer looked genuinely impressed, honestly. The two continued chatting on their way to the showers, both eager to be clean. As they showered in adjacent stalls, Pharah spoke again, “Say, Tracer?”.

 

“Yeah-huh?”

 

“Does Emily, erm, know?”

 

“That I have accidents? Oh God yes!” She replied quickly, “I pissed myself on our first date,”.

 

“How’d that happen?”

 

“We were watchin’ a movie. Real scary one. I hate scary movies, but Emm loves ‘em. At one point a big, scary face pops up goin’ all ‘AAAAAAA!’ and I yelled like a baby. Minute later, my lap was warm and I looked down and saw I was just peein’! Couldn’t stop. Thought Emily’d never wanna see me again, but we went on a date again the next day,” Tracer said with a nostalgic smile.

 

“Second date go better?”

 

“Sort of. We was out for a walk around town, when this mugger jumped us. He pulls a gun, and Emm gets all sorts of scared. She starts tryin’ to get him to just go away, bein’ all ‘Just don’t hurt us!’ and I look at her legs and sure enough, her jeans were wet all the way to bottom. Couple of seconds later, she smelled like she needed a changing, and I knew she’d made in her pants, too,”

 

“Woah. What happened to the mugger?”

 

Tracer flexed her small arm a bit, “I blinked right at him with my chronal accelerator, and suplexed him. He didn’t see that comin’!” She chuckled a bit.

 

“Emily’s a lucky lady, Tracer,”

 

“I like to think so,”

 

-------------------------------------

 

Pharah walked home that night with a newfound respect for her coworkers, and pledged to not mock them for their accidents. Amazingly, no one really said much to her about her own accident. Maybe Tracer asked them to be nice. At any rate, she had a new perspective on things.

 

And a suit of armor that needed a very thorough washing.

Edited by DsGSilver (see edit history)
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  • 9 months later...
3 hours ago, OmoFan101 said:

You should make a continuation of the first story where Sombra returns to Reaper( I'm pretty sure he's the leader of Talon) and is punished for failing the mission and ruining her pants. She could then get so scared of Reaper(He is a ruthless psycopath after all) that she ruins her pants again.

Considering how much Overwatch I've been playing because of Moira being added and the Christmas event starting, I've been thinking of writing another fic. A Talon themed one could be pretty fun.

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On 17/12/2017 at 6:03 AM, DsGSilver said:

Considering how much Overwatch I've been playing because of Moira being added and the Christmas event starting, I've been thinking of writing another fic. A Talon themed one could be pretty fun.

I like the sound of that! Hype!

Nice to see another Overwatch player in this community. We should add each other and play sometime! 

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  • 8 months later...
16 hours ago, wetdiaperlover said:

Have you considered continuing this? Particularly the part with DVA in diapers? 

I actually did write a couple more Overwatch stories, one including D.va pretty prominently.

https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/37759-an-overwatch-mission/ (This one has D.va)

https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/42232-messing-overwatch-stealth-operation/

And I have also considered writing more Overwatch fiction, since I've been playing a ton of it lately. If I do, diapered D.va could definitely make an appearance.

Edited by DsGSilver
Fixed links. (see edit history)
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19 hours ago, DsGSilver said:

I actually did write a couple more Overwatch stories, one including D.va pretty prominently.

https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/37759-an-overwatch-mission/ (This one has D.va)

https://www.omorashi.org/forums/topic/42232-messing-overwatch-stealth-operation/

And I have also considered writing more Overwatch fiction, since I've been playing a ton of it lately. If I do, diapered D.va could definitely make an appearance.

I really hope you do. The world needs more diapered D.va. Most diaperable character in overwatch IMO. 

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