#jesse mccree oneshot

[nori-writes]

Hi there! May I request Cassidy with an s/o who can easily fluster him? Thank you in advance if you do this!

“You love it.”

Cassidy x Reader

W/C: 850+

A/N: YESS, I love Cassidy requests, sadly this is the last one I have (feel free to send more 👀) I’ve been obsessed with Overwatch recently especially Cassidy and Hanzo. One last funny little thing that I wanna share. So basically the way I write his accent is a just quietly talk to myself while I’m writing because I have a southern accent myself. Just thought it was a lil funny thing to share.

Also this isn’t proof read AT ALL. I wrote this in a couple periods of school.

Cole loves complimenting and flirting with you as often as he gets the chance to.

But as soon as you throw a compliment back at him he is a flustered mess.

Typically he's just fine taking a compliment from someone like another agent in Overwatch but when it's from you?

God help him.

Whenever he’s flustered he’ll pull his hat from his head to cover his face and take a moment to collect himself before even thinking about replying to you

It’s literally adorable.

Claims to hate it

He loves it.

He’ll glance over them and claim that your words don’t affect him

They most definitely do.

It was around midnight and Cassidy still hadn’t managed to find his way into bed. He had returned from a mission earlier and had meant to go home hours ago to change, shower, or even just to see you. God, he always missed you. Instead, he sat on a part of the counter in the base's kitchen, lights out, eating some cookies that Brigitte had made for all of Overwatch to enjoy and enjoy he did.

They were amazing, perfectly cooked but still a nice chewable, gooey texture to them with the perfect amount of chocolate chips and hit the spot at this time of night. If he was being completely honest though, he hadn’t realised how late it was getting to be. If he had he would’ve scurried his way home by now.

Though, the silence in the Overwatch kitchen at night was a weirdly comforting thing. The curtains were open just enough to bring in the perfect amount of moonlight to illuminate everything so that you weren’t tripping over stuff in the dark.

After a couple more cookies Cole had finally decided to pull out his phone and check the time which had read to be almost 1:00 AM. Determining that it was already far too late for him to be awake he decided on one last cookie before he would finally make his way to your shared bed for the night.

He pulled his last cookie out of the jar before taking a bite out of it as he realised your figure stood in the doorway, “Hey sweet pea, what’re you doin’ up at this hour?”

You left the doorway making your way closer to Cole. He noted that you were in pyjamas meaning that you had already been in bed as your voice came out in a groggy tone, “Someone had mentioned that you were back from your mission earlier today, I hadn’t seen you so I came looking for you. Missed your handsome face.”

He internally thanked that he had left the lights off when he came in here earlier, had he not the only thing to hide how embarrassingly red his face was currently would’ve been his hat. The hat which he wasn’t wearing currently.

There was an outline of a smile that came across your face, you weren’t able to fully see his reaction but you knew the effect that your words had on him. He was always the one who flirted with other people, never the other way around so when you threw his words right back at him the reaction was nothing but the best. He took a second to gather himself before he even thought about replying to you.

“Sorry, I hadn’t been lookin’ at the time. I meant to come n’ see you earlier. I kinda got caught up with Brigitte’s cookies, these things are amazing,�� He praised the cookies while taking a bite out of the one he had grabbed before he noticed you were in the room.

You shook your head in agreement, hopping up on the counter next to him, laying your head onto his shoulder, “You thinking about heading to bed anytime soon?”

“Just ‘bout to after I finished this last cookie,” you let out a small hum of acknowledgement to his words looking up at his face, “Somethin’ on your pretty little mind sugar?”

You shook your head, “Nothing just you, all the time.”

All he could do was sigh with a smile on his face, the blush of his face much more visible with the closeness of the two of you, “Can’t be just sayin’ stuff that.”

“Yes I can, and you love it.”

As always if you enjoyed my masterlist is here

[unactivewaspsfics]

The Southern Charm

A/N: I'm trying new formatting… Idk what works with me JUST yet so if this is the only post with this kind of formatting, you know :D I will say depending on how interested I am I may make a part two… Who knows lmao <;33 also I WAS gonna post this at 12 am but the demons won and I am posting it at like 9 >:D

Pairing: Cole Cassidy x NB!Reader

Genre: Fluff, Romance, SFW

CW: Pet names, flirting, minor cussing, and kissing?! (😦)

Word Count: 1,090 or so

Summary:

While you are traveling to visit family who begged you to come down, you decide to take a pit-stop break at a small Texan town on Route 66. This was your first stop in any considerable amount time but it has a lot of southern charm, and one cowboy you grab your eye is ALL southern and lots, and I mean lots, of charm. I guess you can say you two went on a date too.

You grabbed your bags as you waited for the train to finally pause on its tracks and for the conductor to confirm everyone can leave. It had been a super long train ride, not being helped at all by the dizzy feeling of motion sickness you had mid-train ride. While gathering your things, you sighed. How long was it to go from South Carolina to California? You thought while looking out the window.

Desert. A town surrounded by sand, dead trees, and cacti. What a great first look at Texas. Although, you couldn't really complain. It was time to stretch your legs and sleep on an actual bed... If there is a motel here, you weren’t one-hundred percent sure what was even in this town. I mean, there has to be a place to eat, especially since you were starving. What food could be there? Fries maybe... or even grilled cheese... you are in texas so there has to be barbeque. 

You were interrupted by your thoughts by the train conductor speaking. “Everyone is now free to leave! There is a restaurant for your hungry folks, a nearby motel, a gas station, and of course the train station! The next train will be here tomorrow morning heading more south..”

His voice started fading from your ears as you stood up, trying to move through the slightly crowded hallway. You held onto your bag tightly, so as to not lose what you have, as you pushed through groups of people. Before you knew it, you were outside in the Texas sun. It was decent, not too hot and not too windy. 

“Now... where is…” you asked yourself while walking out of the train station to locate the restaurant. “Oh, there it is!” you said happily, fixing your bag before starting to walk to the restaurant. You had no idea last time you had a full meal, I mean yeah you brought snacks for the train but that couldn't be counted as a meal. You looked around at the people in this town and you were very out of place. People here wore old western clothes. Boots, cowboy hats, and some had lassos on their belts. It was like you were in an actual western movie.

While looking at everyone, you caught the eye of a certain cowboy. He wore a red poncho with a brown hat and lots of facial hair. He also has a lot of metal on him. ‘He must get hot in all of that... And his hand is also robotic?’ you asked yourself as he started to walk your way. Your eyes raised up to the man's face, a slight nervousness coming up. You weren't nervous because of his good looks, but because he saw you looking at him. He started to walk to you, a southern chuckle emerging from his lips as he finished the cigar he was smoking, throwing it on the ground and stomping on it.

You fixed your posture and put up a nervous grin, hoping he wouldn't yell at you for staring.. Although it would be acceptable, I mean, you would do the same. “Someone seems to like our town,” he said in a teasing tone while you looked up at him nervously. “Sorry I was staring, I’ve never been here before and I just am surprised everyone here wears cowboy hats and stuff” you explained as the Cowboy laughed slightly more.

“You've never been here before? Well may I welcome such an attractive person like yourself to this little town I call home?” he asked, bowing with open arms for a moment before standing up and placing his hand on the holster of his gun. You were taken aback by how flirtatious he was being right now, I mean, calling you attractive in less than a minute of meeting? You gave a nervous laugh while covering your face slightly. “It’s an honor to be here, Mister…?” you asked, lowering your hand as you started to process how hungry you actually were. “Cole, Cole Cassidy at your service,” he replied, tilting the brim of his hat to you. “Sorry for the conversation change but I haven’t eaten an actual meal in fucking forever- is that café any good?” you asked, pointing to the only restaurant in sight. 

“The Panorama Diner? Oh yeah, it’s good… As good as a place in the middle of nowhere can be” he laughed, turning his body to the diner. “Hey, do you wanna eat with me? I’ll pay for your meal if you agree, stunning traveler” he half-joked, starting to walk to the diner. Obviously, you agreed, I mean, free food and the ability to go on an unofficial date with a handsome cowboy, it’s a win-win! “It would be an honor to be on a date with someone who has all the southern charm in the world” you replied, quickening your pace to catch up with Cole.

“So, where are you going up to? Arizona? Washington? Or are you here to stay in this little town with little ol’ me?” Cole asked with a raised eyebrow, leaning towards you before leaning back to normal. You laughed, fixing the bag around your body. “Despite the fact I would love to stay here with you, I have to go to California to visit family!” you replied with a laugh, shoving your hands into your pockets. “Damn, looks like you have a whole lotta more ways to go, but I ain’t the one to question why someone goes places” he laughed, his smile growing slightly as you two stepped up the stairs of the Diner.

The Diner didn’t look that bad, and I mean it was busy so it had to be good. “Oh, by the way,” he stopped in front of the door to look at you. “I may be a little bit popular here, so if you see people looking at you they aren’t in awe of how breathtaking you look, they just are wondering why you were chosen to go out with me” he jokingly said, nudging your arm with his elbow before laughing. Cole opened the door and motioned for you to go inside first. You stepped in, the smell of food overwhelming your nose, the coolness of the building that contrasted the outside dryness, and the talk of the people was the best thing ever to your right now. 

The two of you walked in and seated yourselves, Cole grabbed a menu as the two of you were heading to a booth next to a window. You sat opposite each other. Cole handed you a menu and you glanced over it, all the food options looked so good. “Hey- what do you always get here?” you asked as Cole looked up from his hand resting on the table. “I get the pie, but if you want a good meal,” he began, leaning over the table and pointing to the ‘Texan Charmer’ which was a burger and fries. “Now that's what I normally get” He laughed looking up at you. You met eyes with him as he leaned back down with a growing smile. “I think I’ll get that, and maybe an apple pie after. If you say it's good it has to be, right?” you jokingly asked him as he laughed. “I mean, if I say something is good in any sense, it’s one hundred percent true,” he half-joked, causing you to give a small chuckle.

Cole raised his hand up to have a waitress, the only waitress, come over and take the orders of both of you. This gave both of you time to talk and get to know each other. “So, why did you ask me out to go eat?” you asked, leaning on the table a bit towards Cole. “Well- Unlike everyone else on that train you were alone and caught my eye,” He said, a bit nervously, clearing his throat. “And I didn’t want anyone else to try anything on ya, since there are few gangs and stuff here” he explained, looking away from you. “Wow that- that’s sweet of you, it’s honestly a surprise,” you laughed, causing Cole to grumble a bit as the food was brought and placed on the tablet with your drinks.

You looked at the food in awe after thanking the waitress. “This smells so good,” you stated, grabbing some fries and putting them in your mouth. “Everything here is a homemade, fun fact!” he replied, grabbing a fry with his robotic arm. “Hey, that’s mine!” you jokingly said while leaning over to get it back. “And who's paying for your food again?” he asked in a teasing tone, raising his hand slightly out of reach. You reached for the fry one more time before leaning back with a fake annoyed look. “Hey, don’t worry buttercup,” he started, eating the stolen fry. “You have plenty more fries to eat on that plate of yours... In the meantime though,” he changed the subject to his food, his apple pie. 

The two of you ate in general silence, only talking or commenting on the food once or twice. “Is that pie any good?” you asked cole with a raised eyebrow, already finished your burger and most of your fries. “Best I've ever had actually,” he laughed, taking another bite with his fork. “If you want a bite just ask, I’m... I’m not hungry anymore,” he said, looking away from you as he pushed the pie and his fork toward you. “No way am I eating this myself, especially when I can share it with a handsome cowboy like yourself,” you flirted, sticking your tongue out at him as he chuckled. “Fine then, guess I can’t miss the opportunity to eat with someone as stuntin’ like yourself, darlin’,” he replied, his southern accent coming through in that sentence.

So, as stated, the two of you shared the desert together. You were more flustered than he was, never really sharing food like that with a stranger- or more of a new friend. Crush maybe? You didn’t know what was the right thing to call him as of current. After he had paid for both of your meals, you two decided to head out. You had to get a motel room so he decided to walk with you. It was sundown, so you assumed Cole wanted to be ‘protective’ of you. It was slightly comforting. As you walked Cole lit a cigar.

“So, how long did ya say you were staying here?” he asked you, putting the cigar in his mouth. “Just until the next train comes here,” you replied, taking a step closer to Cole, finding comfort in him the more you two hung out together. “I think the next train will be here tomorrow afternoon,” you added. Cole nodded silently as you spoke, taking the cigar out of his mouth for a moment to have fresh air before putting it back. “Hey- will you at least see me before you leave?” he asked nervously, clearing his throat. “I would- I want to exchange numbers... In case you wanna come to visit” he said, changing his demeanor from nervous to flirtatious. “Or if you wanna spend the night at my place, you're free too.”  You laughed, nodding your head as you leaned your whole upper body on him as you two walked to the motel.

“Despite the fact I would love to spend the night with you, maybe another day” you replied, opening the door to the motel check-in. Cole dropped his cigar and stomped it out as you asked for a one-night motel room. It was pretty quick to get you one, which you were glad for. Cole followed you to your hotel room, watching as you unlocked the door and threw your bag in real quickly. 

“Well, Darlin’... It was nice spending the day with you. Tomorrow I'll stop by to say goodbye, yeah?” he asked, cupping your cheek with a chuckle. You smiled, grabbing his face with your hands and leaning his face towards you, the smell of cigar almost making you lean back. “I guess i will be waiting then” you smiled, leaning your face forward and giving him a cheek kiss, moving your hands as he stood slightly shocked, and a bit offended you didn’t kiss him on the lips. But I mean, you can’t have him be too eager, now can you?

You walked into the motel, turning to Cole with a grin.

“See you tomorrow, Darlin’!”

[ow2requests]

Fluff with Cassidy x neutral/masc leaning reader having a (college) study session? Been stressing over my master's program and could use some wholesome reading!

a/n: hello anon, thank you for being the first one to request! I hope you liked this short, sort of chill oneshot, let me know!

Studying With Cassidy (not really because Cassidy distracts you)

A small yawn escaped your lips, your fingertips ghosted onto the pages of the textbook you had been revising off of. Your eyes lazily skimming through the blocks of texts that laid in front of you.

You were too tired to process any of it—too exhausted.

There was no way you would survive this year of college. Exams were right around the corner, and you felt that no matter how hard you studied, you would never get it.

You couldn't help but feel helpless.

It wasn't a very encouraging train of thought, you knew that all too well.

You had been following a rigorous studying regimen, attempting to get in front of whatever you could—some days you felt it was all in vain.

You caught glimpse of the time in your peripheral view; 8:56pm.

The library's gonna close soon...Might as well continue at my dorm... you thought to yourself.

Letting out a disheartened sigh, you stuffed your textbook into your bag, slinging it over your shoulder haphazardly.

And with that, you departed, and went off to your dorm.

———

Once you stepped foot into your dorm, your grip loosened on your bag, allowing it to fall to the ground with a thump—quickly reaching in to grab your textbook so you could get back to studying.

"Hey darlin'." A voice you knew all too well suddenly erupted from behind you.

Cole!

You relaxed at the sound of his voice, a smile graced your features. "Hey." you awkwardly replied.

"Did I scare ya?"

You snorted, "Nah. I'm just surprised you're lurking in my dorm around this time." You offered him a fond smirk. This was a common occurrence for the two of you, Cassidy normally liked to spend time in your dorm when he wasn't busy doing whatever he does.

A brief moment of silence passed, Cassidy laid down on your couch, taking off his hat and placing it on the couch— making himself comfortable.

"What're ya up to? I haven't seen ya all day today."

"Well…Exams are coming up, and I'm trying to stick to my studying schedule." You explained, you found yourself feeling guilty for not spending as much time with Cassidy as you wanted to. "It's been stressful, and I don't know if I even have the energy to keep reading this stupid textbook." Holding up the textbook, you emphasized your frustration.

With a sympathetic smile on his face, Cassidy chuckled. "Lemme help ya, then." He stretched his hands out, inviting you to cuddle.

The urge to touch him tingled in your fingertips as your face heated up. Walking towards him, you placed the book on the couch's armrest and laid down next to him, feeling his arms snake around your waist, pulling you closer.

You couldn't help but feel all fuzzy and gushy inside, this was exactly what you needed.

His calloused hands gently caressed your cheeks before moving down to squeeze your shoulders. "Arent'cha the cutest thing? Yer’ all flustered." With a coy smirk, he teased you.

It took some courage for you to clear your throat, trying to overcome the shyness you felt around him. "Cole, are we studying or not?" You mused lightheartedly.

As he grabbed your textbook, you both began reading through its contents. As Cassidy asked you questions about your coursework, cracking jokes periodically, observing your deep concentration and listening to you read, he couldn't help but chuckle silently.

He only thought of one word: Adorable.

Soon enough, Cassidy began reading outloud.

Something about Cassidy's voice always soothed you, his honeyed and suave voice was enough to make anybody fall head over heels with him.

You nuzzled yourself deeper into his chest, arms draping around his large frame. You found yourself completely blocking out the information, and instead you were being lulled to sleep.

And soon enough, you were fast asleep.

“Whatdya think this means?” Cassidy furrowed his eyebrows in contemplation at the information in your textbook. While Cassidy did not comprehend much of the topic you discussed, he was impressed with your ability to answer all his questions.

Suddenly, there was silence.

“Darlin’?” he whispered gently to you.

His gaze fell on your sleeping, serene face, and he paused to stare at your unconscious form with amusement and surprise.

Did his voice relax you to the point that you fell asleep in his arms? Or did you fall asleep simply because you were bored?

He’d oughta ask you when you wake up, but for now…

Keeping his arm around your waist, he continued gently stroking your head while holding you. Taking a deep breath, he shut his eyes, surrendering to the influence of fatigue and soon falling asleep.

It might have been easier for him to wake you up, but you looked so peaceful and cozy all curled up.

After all, you two could always study another time.

This was one of those moments that he wished would last forever. You and him, relaxed, and with no worries.

[sleepyfaequeen]

Little Accidents

Chapter: 1

Warnings: xfem!reader, reader is in her early 20s, Jack Morrison is bisexual for story purposes. Don't like that, don't read. I don't think I have to explain that it's fanfiction and shouldn't be taken seriously. If that triggers you, do not read this fic.

A/n: Unsure who I should ship reader with but we shall see.

Summary: You find out something that you shouldn't have found out, but here we are. That's what you get for eavesdropping.

Song:

(Y/n) had become a part of Blackwatch for a few months now, and the constant training was always different, but joining Overwatch had become her dream. When she joined as a soldier, she was surprised that she would soon be joining a black ops group who was hand-picked by Commander Reyes himself. To work under someone who's well respected and knows what he's doing was a big honor. Not only that, but for some reason, she had noticed Commander Morrison has been watching over their training exercises. He would actually even compliment her. It surprised her at first, but she knew he probably did that to those he saw with potential. She always saw him talking to Gabriel in the distance, arguing about something, but regardless, it always seemed to calm down.

Today, she was walking to Commander Reyes' office to return some needed files that needed to be filled out and given to Doctor Moira. But she stopped in her tracks as soon as she heard Reyes and Morrison arguing. She knew it was bad to eavesdrop but she did it anyway.

"Absolutely not." Reyes' gruff voice came.

"I'm not asking you. I'm demanding that she be removed from you're squad." Jack could be heard sounding angry and less composed than he usually did.

"Why would I do that?" Gabriel shifts in his seat as he crosses his arms.

"Why?" She leans in, her curious blue eyes looking inside. Seeing Jack turn as he rubs a gloved hand over his face as he takes a moment to answer. "You got my kid in there."

".. What?" Gabriel tilts his head, seeming confused.

"I had a fling when I was young and.." He explains and Gabriel just laughs.

"Is it Cassidy?" Reyes jokes to which Jack scoffs.

"No, it's obvious who." The two lock eyes and (Y/n) can't help but jump as she feels a hand touch her arm. Seeing Captain Amari there made her completely freak out.

"(Y/n)? What's wrong? You look like you seen a ghost." She looks down at her concerned, and (Y/n) can't help but tighten her grip on the stack of papers in her gloved hands.

"No, I'm honestly fine..!" She could hear the two Commanders approaching the doorway and she quickly, shoves the papers into her chest before running down the hall and into the elevator as she turns she could see Commander Jack looks down the hall, her way, as the doors shut with a ding of the elevator.

She felt her heart beating so fast and her head spinning as she felt her entire face in a cold sweat. As the elevator stops, she finds herself aimlessly walking around. She wasn't sure what time it was when she found herself within the Blackwatch members' corridor room. She found her fingers shaking as she kept mistyping her own room code with multiple beeps being heard. She exhales as she stops herself for a moment.

Something about the new girl was off today. She looked rather tense, or at least that is what Genji's eyes could tell. To him, she was just another member, another teammate. A freak but she looked much more normal than the rest of them. More normal than him. Though he usually avoided conversations so he never thought of talking to her or much of anyone. Unless absolutely necessary circumstances. He resented them all for being.. human. It reminded him of what he was not. Of what was taken away from him.

The days in Overwatch was always the same. Everyday, to him, went by quickly and was just as empty as usual. Genji had his own routine like anyone else: training, meetings, more training, then showers. Perhaps the best part of his day. He was always grateful to feel the warmth of the shower against his torn flesh. Unlike his added cybernetic side, it could feel. He walked down the halls to the Blackwatch private quarters, with his towel hanging over and around his neck. Only in his gym shorts as his augments were showing. Stopping as he watched her fumble with her door passcode. "Needing help or something?" He asked her softly as he was more curious today about her expression. He was surprising himself since he rarely talked to other people, but she looked like she could use a hand.

She almost bit her own tongue as the robotic voice had startled her. Her head turning and her eyes blinking away any sort of distress as her fingers fumbled with the key card.

"Uh.. I.. I think I got it." Again, the beeping was still denying her access to her own quarters. She lowers her head as she steps aside and gestures for him to have a try. "Have at it. I swear I forget sometimes." She looks at him as she smiles and rubs the back of her neck as she hands him her keycard. "Code is 8170."

She never knew the cyborg ninja guy even talked. Well, he could she just has never really talked to him before. Only during missions there was usually nothing but nods or hand gestures. He would sigh or scoff and with the plate over his mouth it sounds more robotic. She's heard stories from others around the base and how he was so skilled. Some people would even think he was hard to look at but no one would dare tell him to his face. Honestly, with Genji's red cybernetic eyes, he looked like he could kill someone easily and he probably could. She didn't know him much but she knew he was usually a quiet guy and he seemed to like his solitude. Sometimes, Cassidy would talk to him and she swore Genji would roll his eyes but endure McCree's rambling.

His hand moved to type in the code after memorizing it and her repeating it quietly. His breathing could be heard from behind his mask as he typed in the last few digit numbers. The door to her room sliding open with a small green light on the keypad. He steps back and hands her the keycard.

"The codes are picky, sometimes you have to type them in slow." He said as his eyes looked at her for a mere moment in silence as he stepped back. Turning to walk to his own room as he takes out his own keycard.

".. Training will be early tomorrow." He said as he got to his own door and typed in his own code.

"Yeah.." she said as she steps inside her room and watches Genji walk over to him before her eyes met his. "Thank you, I'll be seeing you.. tomorrow." She said and he gives her a nod before heading into his room before pressing a button to let the doors close and lock and she did the same.

She sighs as she hangs her head low before going to her desk and immediately went to look at an old photo of her and her mother. Her mother never had the chance to tell her much about her father but the fact she unintentionally found him wasn't a coincidence. She just hoped whatever led them towards each other wasn't for the worst.

[pinkykitten]

Meant To Be

Overwatch

Jesse McCree x female! reader

Warning: none

Specifics: song fic, a lot and I mean a lot of fluff, lil comedy, race neutral

People: Jesse McCree, you, other drivers (mentioned)

Words: 1,677

Summary: Based of the song “Meant To Be” - Bebe Rexha (feat. Florida Georgia Line) you and Jesse take a road trip since all the work you have done, its time to relax. You and him start having fun, being goofy while he is driving to the destination.

Authors Note: i loved writing this because i love this song and have listened to this so many times. and if you are all wondering if mccree sings he does just look up matthew mercer singing...you’re welcome. a lot of fluff coming your way and if you didn’t know mcrree is my favorite character in overwatch he is like my husband. and i added in here you like lemonade if you don’t thats fine cause to be honest i hate lemonade but i thought since mccree is country why not. hope y’all enjoy my pals, this here is gonna be a wild ride! (im srry i was trying to sound like mccree)

The summer air entering through your nostrils. The heat baking everything in sight. 

You stuck your arm out of the red trucks window, and allow your hand to be taken by the breeze. You smiled feeling very relaxed at this moment. Since you worked as an agent in overwatch you barely had any recreational activities. So Jesse thought of the idea of heading on a little road trip. At first you hesitated because you had work, there would be no time for fun. Jesse was persistent though. He understood where you were coming from so he, being the sly cowboy, left a note at the overwatch headquarters explaining why him and you were not available. 

You turned your body away from the opened window and faced Jesse. Jesse was driving with a tooth pick in his mouth, his window opened also. His cowboy hat on his silky dark hair, he was wearing a flannel with the sleeves rolled up and the few top buttons opened so his chest hair was sticking out a bit. He was focused on driving to the destination he didn’t notice you staring. You stared in awe at his face. The way the sun was placed in the sky led the light to Jesse’s side and made his eyes look hazel if not like gold.

You gulped not wanting him to find out you have been staring this whole time. That would make you look like a creep. 

“Hey baby,” Jesse began. “can you get me a ice tea from the cooler please?”

You answered with a sure as you unbuckled your seat belt (everyone please remember to buckle your seat belts don’t do this, stay safe!) and leaned over your seat. Unfortunately you forgot a specific body part was going to be in a specific country boy’s face. 

“Good lord jesus sugar,” Jesse growled as he tried to put his attention on the road but your butt was right by his face. His eyes glimpsed from the road to your bottom, back and forth. 

“What’s good lord jesus,” you mimicked with the country accent.

Jesse’s eyes went wide. His mama always taught him to be a gentleman when it came to ladies. I mean but we all know he’s a flirt’. But he didn’t want you to think of yourself as a one night stand or a partner that was temporary. He wanted you lifelong, forever. He didn’t want to come off as a weirdo checking out your butt. 

“Oh nothin sweetheart,” Jesse waved it off, waiting for his cold sweet tea. 

You moved all the freezing drinks around to get to the ice tea in the cooler.

“Of course his dang drink had to be at the bottom,” you huffed. 

You leaned more over the passengers chair, but your feet were no longer in contact with the seat so you almost went toppling forward, shrieking in the process. But thanks to your yelp it alerted Jesse and he caught you. 

“Thanks babe,” you laughed.

You came back with his drink and yours. (I chose lemonade but you don’t have to) You opened the cold lemonade and drank almost all of it. Your throat feeling refreshed and satisfied. You moaned in delight at the taste. As you turned your head to see if Jesse was drinking his you noticed he was staring at you this time! You turned your head at him and he moved to look at his drink. 

“Hey pumpkin do ya think ya can help me out here.”

You already knew the drill, having that Jesse brought sweet tea with him all the time. You grabbed the bottle and opened it up for him. Jesse put his head towards you and you put the bottle to his lip. This was so he could keep driving. You have told him numerous of times that just because he took his hand off the wheel for five minutes doesn’t mean they were going to have a car crash. But he always answers with the same line, “Don’t want my baby hurt now, ya hear me?”

You reminisced that moment in your head and you let out a chuckle. 

“Jesse McCree what am I going to do with you,” you nod your head from side to side. 

“You could kiss me sunshine,” Jesse beamed. 

You crawled up to Jesse’s torso and gave his cheek a peck. Then you whispered in his ear a “I love you my boo bear.” Jesse had toothy grin that went from ear to ear.  

“I love you more,” Jesse whispered back. 

As you sat back down to your usual posture, Jesse turned on the radio. 

“Why don’ we put some music on,” Jesse suggested as he put a disc in. You were wondering what the song was going to be. 

As the music instrumental part played you smiled knowing this was yours and Jesse’s song. 

“Baby, lay on back and relax, kick your pretty feet up on my dash,” Jesse sang with the song as you did what the song said and put your feet on the dash of the car.  “No need to go​ nowhere fast, let's enjoy right here where we at 

Who knows where this road is supposed to lead we got nothing but time 

As long as you're right here next to me,” as he sang this part he pointed to you sitting next to him. “Everything's gonna be alright” 

“If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, just let it be,” Jesse grabbed your hand and put it to his heart as if singing to you. You danced in your seat loving this man so much.  “If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, just let it be So, won't you ride with me, ride with me? See where this thing goes If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be 

Baby, if it's meant to be,” he sang to you while swerving the car a little to make you laugh more. 

You arched your eyebrow as you sat up more, your feet curling bellow you, so your seated on them. This was your time to sing, “I don't mean to be so uptight, but my heart's been hurt a couple times,” as you sang those first lines Jesse was now not paying any attention to the road, just a few glances but his attention was on you and your voice. Your voice was a mix of cute and sexy, like how was that possible! He stared at you as if you were a queen, a goddess. You danced, taking your hand out of his and making a heart with your hands and breaking it apart.  “By a couple guys that didn't treat me right I ain't gon' lie, ain't gonna lie,” you put your hand up to Jesse’s face and turned your attention to the window, pretending to be irate at him.  “'Cause I'm tired of the fake love, show me what you're made of Boy, make me believe,” you came back to Jesse, face mere inches apart from his and rubbed his facial hair under his chin, trying to make the most lustful face. “But hold up, girl, don't you know you're beautiful? And it's easy to see,” you were leaning on the arm rest console, your eyes dreamily looking at Jesse. He sings about you being beautiful and then kisses your forehead. 

“If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, just let it be If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, just let it be So, won't you ride with me, ride with me? See where this thing goes If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, if it's meant to be,” you both sang together in harmony while you are holding his hand. You and him dance to the music while singing. 

“So, c'mon ride with me, ride with me See where this thing goes So, c'mon ride with me, ride with me Baby, if it's meant to be,” Jesse stopped at a red light and you stopped singing. He saw that you were shy to sing in front of others so he made himself goofy in front of the other drivers. Making a funny face and dance. You giggle uncontrollably at your silly boyfriend.  

“Maybe we do,” he sang far away from you.  “Maybe we don't,” you sang back inching closer to Jesse. “Maybe we will,” he crept closer to you so that you were only a hair apart.  “Maybe we won't,” you both sang in unison with the radio. 

“But if it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, just let it be,” you sang with his voice while he and you clapped. “sing it baby,” Jesse yells after you both sing that last part. You then take Jesse’s hat and shake your hips while holding Jesse’s hand. His face looking at you in awe. “If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be (c'mon) Baby, just let it be (let's go) So, won't you ride with me, ride with me? See where this thing goes If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, if it's meant to be,” your voices lacing together nicely, while you shake your body. 

“If it's meant to be,” Jesse sings closer to you while kissing your hand in his big palm. 

“it'll be,” you sing softly back kissing his hand. 

“it'll be Baby, if it's meant to be If it's meant to be, it'll be, it'll be Baby, if it's meant to be,” you both finish in unison. 

As Jesse pauses at a red light, he stares into your eyes lovingly. Those hazel or golden orbs when touched with the sun, studying your face of beauty. Of greatness, of just a pure angel seated before him. 

“I am so much in love with you, baby,” Jesse whispers to you while still clutching your palm to his heart. 

“I love you more,” you whispered back while giving him a sweet kiss on the lips. 

[cooliofango]

Ciao! I saw your requests were open and I have a request. I was hoping we could get a platonic Jesse McCree imagine with a gender neutral young adult reader (around Hana’s age) where the reader was sort of emotionally neglected in their younger years, so they hold onto any little bit of praise they get. Then Jesse compliments the reader on their performance in the field or while they’re training one day, and it almost instantly puts the y/n in a good mood for a while since they secretly really look up to Jesse.

Thanks 🙏🏽❤️

[Platonic] McCree x GN! Reader

Summary: An emotionally touch starved trainee about Hana’s age in Overwatch who secretly looks up to Jesse, gaining praise from her favorite hero.

This seems like a super cute idea and I’d love to do it! Thanks for sending in the request! I apologize ahead of time if this comes out late due to me being a distracted dumbass ;-;

—————

“Aim a little higher. No, not that high..!” Your mentor spoke gruffly in your ear as you struggled to hit the moving targets. You were a new recruit for Overwatch, getting personally training from a guy who you were assigned to. It was your dream to fight in Overwatch and it has been ever since you were saved from getting caught in the crossfire by Overwatch’s Blackwatch team.

You remember the night like it happened yesterday, though it was really 8 years ago. You were about 12 at the time, Blackwatch was infiltrating Venice, more specifically Rialto where you lived. It was night and you were heading home late after spending time at the beaches along the coast with your friends and had lost track of time. You had just turned the corner when gunfire had spit past your ears, cutting through the air at high speeds. It surprised you, leaving you frozen in shock. There were men in suits shooting at you.

No, not at you. You realized this when you were suddenly pulled out of the way by one person from the group of people who were getting shot at. It was a man in about his teen to young adult years. He, like most of the other people in the group, was mainly dressed in black. His getup reminded you of some cowboy from a movie about the west and heists, though what only furthered your accusation was his thick country accent. “You know, it’s getting pretty late for a kid like you to be out here. I’d recommend taking the long way home.” A slight chuckle slipped from his lips as he gazed back out to the group. The gun fire had stopped and they were continuing their infiltration to get to Bartalottiz.

At the time, you only caught a glimpse of the symbol signifying his affiliation with Blackwatch. You didn’t even know that it was Blackwatch as you ran off. Not until a few months later when you saw the group go public and then again two years later when Overwatch was officially disbanded. It had upset you greatly. Overwatch was always a group you looked up to, even with being in the dark about Blackwatch and what had happened after the omnic crisis.

Your mother always resented Overwatch after the omnic crisis. Your father was a soldier at the time and died in battle during it, even when your mother insisted that he didn’t go and that he should come with the two of you when you moved to Rialto. But he said it was his duty to fight in the war and did just that. The only problem was that he didn’t return home. The grief left your mother to shut everyone out, including her child. You were left to care for yourself for the most part because of it. Though despite that, you don’t hate her for it. It’s helped you become stronger. Strong enough to become a new recruit when the recall was sent for your father, going in his place with Winston’s aid.

“Focus..!” Your mentor snapped you from your thoughts, causing you to jump in surprise. “R-right.. sorry.” You nodded, rolling your shoulders back to help relax your muscles and to get back on track. It was.. a lot harder than it looked. For her anyways. Trying to hit the targets felt like trying to hit the needle in the haystack. And this was a moving haystack.

“Don’t be so hard on the kid. It’s only the first day.” A thick country accent hung in the air from the entrance as the door opened. It struck a cord within you when hearing it. It had sounded so familiar. This prompted you to turn and look at who it would be, only to be met with a familiar face. The cowboy from 8 years ago. The one who saved you from getting caught in the crossfire back in Rialto. The difference from then and now was that he looked older, hair longer and thicker. He wasn’t wearing all black like before, having more brown and red tones to the color pallet. And one of his arms were replaced with a cybernetic prosthetic. You wondered how that happened.

“Why don’t you take a break? I’ll handle the kid for a while.” He walked further inside the room, your mentor watching his every move as he contemplated his answer. Maybe a break would help calm his nerves. A heavy sigh left the commander, shaking his head. “Alright. I’ll be back in ten.” He turned to walk out the door, a hand raising to rub at his temple with the door to shut behind him on the way out.

McCree let a chuckle leave his lips at the sight. “Commander Lester was always such a stick in the mud.” He turned to you and placed a hand on your shoulder. “Don’t let his attitude get to ya. He’s that grumpy with everyone one.” His tone was reassuring and calm, easing her mind a bit. “R-right.” You nodded with your single word response before looking at the moving targets. He too looked at them, slipping into thought for a moment.

“Try hitting one of those targets.” McCree gestured to the moving cardboard people, targets drawn on their bodies to help the one practicing figure out where to shoot. You were always told headshots were the most affective so you’ve been aiming for that. But it’s clear that you haven’t been able to hit them. Even now as you try to hit the targets’ heads, missing once again and instead hitting the wall behind them. “Alright, alright. That’s enough.” McCree held up a hand as a gesture for you to stop, in which you did.

“The problem is clear as day.” He chuckled to himself, shaking his head. “Aim for where they’re going to be, instead of where they already are.” His arms crossed over his chest, watching your face’s expression change to one of confusion. “Aim where it’s going to be…” You murmured to yourself, carefully watching the targets movements. You didn’t have to do so for long, of course. Being in here for so long, it was easy for you to memorize the movement patterns. Raising your gun you waited to fire at the right time. Aim for where it’s going to be.

The sound of the gun fire was followed by the sound of the layers of the cardboard being broken with a pop-like sound. It didn’t hit the center of the head like you initially timed it for, more to the left actually, but you actually hit it! “There you go..! Nice shot, kid!” He patted your back with a grin. The sound of the door opening made him look back to see Commander Lester walk back in. “Keep it up and you’ll do great.” He gave a thumbs up before turning to leave. I mean, he did have his own work to do after all. He just saw a familiar face in need of help and decided to take a small stop to do so.

“Alright. Let’s get back to it, cadet!” The commander barked his order just like before. The only difference from then and now was that you weren’t as nervous as you were before. Actually, you felt a bit more confident than usual. The praise you received from someone you deemed as your hero made you feel better. That and receiving help from him instead of your grumpy commander helped to calm your nerves. Target practice went smoothly the rest of that day. You’ll have to thank McCree later on.

[parvulous-writings]

Misunderstood Distraction // McCree x reader

Request:  How about McCree on an undercover mission to rescue an unknown target (not yet specified to make sure talon doesn't know, so McCree doesn't know it's the target at first either) meeting someone while being on lookout for good vantage points in a nearby park. The target's (s/o) dog named Jesse gets loose and they run after it yelling it's name only to get the cowboy to react. S/o get annoyed by being distracted from catching their dog at first... you can take it to anywhere from here. I do hope more people find you and request. You write beautifully.

Requested by: Anon

Summary: The request! 

Warnings: none

Words: 1K

Notes: I know that the text colouring doesn’t show up here, but when I saw blue writing in my inbox, I squealed a little. Teach me your witchcraft please-  My requests are currently open! My pinned post (found here) contains both a list of characters I write for, and a masterlist!

Not my gif 

The mission was simple enough. On paper at least. Then again, even the truly simple missions were always simpler on paper. Perhaps it was the random nature of the world around the heroes, creating variables that they could never calculate into the equation or plan.Then again, perhaps it was other minute details that they were able to control. Whichever of the possibilities it may have been, Jesse McCree did not care. He rolled with the punches, took whatever was thrown at him. It was just the way that he lived, and it was sure helpful on the field- especially in missions such as this one. 

His task? Rescue an important target from captivity. He knew the building well, having studied every corridor on every holomap, every way in and out, logical or otherwise. Who was the target? Well, therein lay the main rub of this particular assignment. He didn’t know. This wasn’t without good reason, though. If the Overwatch higher ups had disclosed who it was to anyone besides themselves, there was an extremely good chance that this information would be discovered by Talon, and used to their advantage. That was something that they couldn’t risk under any circumstances, and McCree understood this, he respected it even. 

So, for the moment, the gunslinger was walking- or more meandering- through a park close to the building where the captive was being held. It was an expansive area, dotted with strong oak trees with stone-layered paths strewn throughout the grassy mounds. He couldn’t leap into action without the word being given first. It could jeopardise everything. So, he pulled the brim of his hat down further over his face as something or someone rushed past him, trying to remain inconspicuous and mind his own business until the time came for him to act. 

“Jesse!”  The voice was distant, but he managed to catch it. His head shot up-originally thinking that it was someone through his earpiece. However, when he heard the voice again, he quickly realised that wasn’t the case.  “Jesse, get back here!”  It was closer this time, and he looked over his shoulder to see you practically bounding towards him. You nearly ran into him, as you had fully expected him to move out of your way. You clipped his shoulder with you own, and the cowboy still looked baffled. “You talking to me?” He asked, pointing to his own, cuirass covered chest with his metallic thumb. 

“What? No,” You reply hastily, before starting to dash off again. As you ran off from him, he noticed something clutched in your hand. A leash. Maybe you were chasing after a pet of yours? He started to jog after you, quickly matching your pace and catching up. “Hey,” He caught your attention again, and you gave him a sidelong glance.  “Uh,hi?” You reply, almost awkwardly. Jesse had to think about what to say next, but thankfully he thought of something quickly, so the silence didn’t last too long. “You need some help?” He nods down to the leash, still clutched in your fist. 

You slow to a halt, not wanting to run and talk, that was pretty tiring. Running was tiring enough on it’s own. “Okay, sure...” As much as you didn’t want to spend too much time explaining, if this cowboy was going to help you he’d need to at least know the basics. “My dog, Jesse, got loose.”  “Oh, so that’s why you were calling my name.” The gunslinger chuckled softly with a subtle shake of his head. “Got a little confused back there ‘cause of it, y’know.” He told you with a small, yet charming smile. “Well, what’s he look like, then?” He asked, placing a hand on his belt as he spoke.  “He’s a black lab. And he’s a runner, too.”  “That’s nothing I can’t handle, don’t you worry. Just gotta wrangle him into a corner or somethin’ like that, righ’?”  “Yeah, I guess that could work...” You agreed with a soft nod. 

And so the pair of you set off, over the slow sloping hills of the park, looking out for this midnight hound that had escaped you so eagerly. “He’s a good dog, he just gets very... Excited.” You told the cowboy, who you of course now rightly assumed was also called Jesse, though you didn’t address him as such. You strained your eyes against the light of the sun in the distance, seeing if you could spot the shadow-like pup somewhere off in the distance.  After maybe about half an hour or so, the cowboy gently tapped on your shoulder. “Hey, is that him?” He asked, pointing over to a particularly large tree with a dog-shaped form at it’s base. You sigh in hopeful relief, rushing to see if your darling pup is alright. 

Jesse the lab raised his head as you approached, getting up from his resting place to trot over to you, clearly he had worn himself out with his unsupervised run about. He sat by your feet for a moment, before he spotted the other Jesse. He started to sniff around the man, seeming rather intrigued by his presence and closeness to you. He sat down in front of him, allowing McCree to bend down and give him a little bit of fuss behind the ear. He chuckled softly as the dog responded so positively to it. “You’re a good boy, ain’t ya?” He grinned, before standing straight again. It was then that he heard another voice, and this once was from his earpiece. 

“McCree, we need you to move in now, we have a window,”  He didn’t answer directly, not wanting to freak you out by talking to someone in his ear who you had no knowledge of. He just looked to you after a moment. “Well, I best be off. If you ever lose this kind lad again, you be sure to find me an’ let me know. Name’s McCree. Jesse McCree, if ya couldn’t tell.” He joked, tipping his hat to you. You give a quiet laugh and nod in reply.  “I’ll be sure to look you up,” You respond, playfully.  “I look forward to hearing from ya, whenever tha’ may be.” McCree gave you another charming smile, before turning on the heel of his boots, and rushing off towards the bustling road of the city to carry out what was needed of him. 

[jay-the-angst-king]

Hanzo has a lot of thoughts, and they are just as overwhelming as they have always been. I wrote a McHanzo oneshot! This story is just some fluff I wrote back in November, but I was happy to edit it and post it.

[daybreakdarling]

Rattlesnakes and Peacekeepers (McCree x Reader)

Word Count: 6.2k+ Trigger warnings: Snakes, minor violence Crossposted on: Ao3

- - - - -

Not a lot happened within Route 66. While it still was a tourist attraction, every ring loses its shine after a while. There were the curious tourists that come for the vast canyon views, locals that lazed under the humid air, and rowdy biker groups that liked to cause minor inconveniences, but unless unless you had a knack for the oddly-shaped cacti or dirt-tasting coffee, nothing particularly interesting would be seen in it.

If something did happen, it’s usually just out of it.

Just by the borders of the main area, almost close to the next road, was a shooting range. One hectare of field boxed by metal fencing with a farm on the east and a house just by the left of it. It had been managed by a nice family of five. It had what you needed: If you wanted to shoot, you line up cans and bottles. If you wanted a break, the family had drinks ready on the porch. If you needed a place to stay, rooms were offered at reasonable prices.

The only rule: always shoot something, never someone.

It used to be the joy of those two lived between the counties; anyone who came by at least once would always agree that it was a gem in the land—a getaway for the good, bad, and anyone in between. The family didn’t ask for a lot either, just good company, and the people were happy to oblige to such good hospitality.

However, after a raid by a gang from the neighboring state, the place was unsalvageable. The family moved out, and the joy with them. No one bothered to take care of it either; it wouldn’t be the same. From there, it was left to collect dust.

That was twenty years ago.

McCree was staying in New Mexico for a few days. It was that time of the year where a number of agents were heading back to their hometowns, and since he hadn’t been called for any missions for a while, he decided to do the same. Soldier was a little skeptical to have him visit due to a possible run in with his old gang, but Ana was quick to allow McCree with the reassurance that it would be good for him.

So there he was, on the last day of his short break, standing under the canopy of the abandoned farmhouse.

He visited the range a lot with his parents when he was younger. McCree spent long afternoons practicing with his father while his mother talked with the family. Even after he joined Deadlock, a number of the gang members, himself included, visited the range just to enjoy a place where everyone was viewed the same. He had a lot of good memories associated with it, so when the news of the attack went across New Mexico, it was an understatement to say that he was devastated.

He leaned on the porch fence, careful not to put too much weight and cause more damage. If the buildings creaked just by the desert wind, what more by him?

Looking around, the field’s grasses were tall and unkept, and the barrels, boxes, and fences used for the shooting range across the land were old and withered. The place definitely saw better days, but it was just as he remembered it.

A number of bottles were on the fences, so McCree raised Peacekeeper for a casual shot.

Kling!

…

That wasn’t his bullet.

McCree looked to the direction of the shot to see an officer. You were dressed in casual attire: a tan blouse, greyish-green tactical pants, and brown hiking boots. On your head was a cowboy hat like McCree’s, but the brown had already withered into a lighter shade and your hat band was a white weaved braid. You were far from him, but the only thing that gave McCree the idea of your position was the shining star lapel on the left of your shirt, and a mean-looking revolver.

The cowboy took a shot to the can next to yours.

McCree was quick to raise his hands up when you point your gun at him.

“I don’t mean t’cause any harm!” McCree called out. Even in the long distance, anyone in Route 66 could easily shoot a man between the eyes (example: himself).

McCree hoped that you’ll put down the gun or return to shooting, but you started to advance towards him. The cowboy knew not to mess with the law (he’d done so many times in the past, and that definitely got him somewhere), so he stood on guard; McCree even placed his hat to his chest, hoping that showing respect will keep him from being turned in. He did have a bounty over his head, after all.

“State your name and business,” you demanded.

“The name’s Jesse McCree.”

There’s shock, then a slight shift in your grip. The man’s been on gun point many times like these before, but for some reason your presence just intimidated him more than it should. McCree was quick to speak up.

“Just ‘ere t’enjoy the Miller’s shootin’ range like anyone else, deputy.”

After what felt like an eternity, McCree sighed as you returned your gun to your holster.

You leaned on the porch fence beside him, arms crossed as you looked into the distance. The air wasn’t completely comfortable, but it wasn’t tense. McCree took out a cigar, and he gestured it to you as if to ask if you wanted one. You shook your head, and he proceeded to light it.

“What’s an officer of the law doin’ ‘round the dusty outskirts of Route 66?” he asked, blowing out a puff of smoke.

“Shootin’,” you answered simply.

You gave him a look over.

“What’s an ex-Deadlock gang member turned covert-operative Overwatch agent doin’ round ‘ere?”

McCree choked on the cigar for a second.

“... shootin’.”

Silence passed.

“Well, there’s some more bottles n’ caps by th’ back of th’ house,” you chirped, brushing past him.

“I’ll fetch ‘em for ya. I’d like t’see that infamous aim of yours.”

It takes McCree a moment to register that you just called him out of his affiliations, one of which he was sure would not reach as these parts of the world, and simply dropped the topic as if it was a broken gun. If he didn’t know any better, he would’ve taken for as just a normal officer doing their job, but it was clear that you knew a lot more than you let on.

He whipped around to see you heading to the back of the farm house, and he rushed to get to you.

“Now wait a gosh darn second, how’d you—“

”It’s either we shoot glasses as equals, or I’m interrogating you as an officer of the law,” you cut him off, facing him just as he was about to reach for you.

With eyes narrowed and threatening, McCree could say that he was looking at a snake that was ready to bite. If looks could kill, he’d be dead just by the fierceness in your eyes. As he took in your features, there were a faint scars on your face, light eyebags, and faint wrinkles, no doubt all from your time bringing peace and order as your duty called for it. A thought of how many criminals you have wrangled in your years came to him. You looked only a couple of years older than him, had you encountered Deadlock in the day as well? Did you hear of him from those days? McCree cleared his throat, hand subconsciously reaching for his gun.

You looked at his hand, and at your glance he took hold of the handle.

“Nothing goes past Rattlesnake,” you threatened, hand patting the holster of your gun.

“And if I was on my shift you’d be behind bars by now.”

McCree expected you to pull out some handcuffs—your statement sounded exactly like those catchphrases in shows before a character does something—but when you turned away and knelt down to collect bottles he’s just left to blink.

“But I’m not,” you shrugged.

“Besides, it’d be disrespectful t’go against the one rule on this old range. You know that rule?”

“Shoot something, never someone.”

Getting up with the targets, you shove a number in his arms without warning, making McCree scramble in an attempt to not drop any of the glass-based targets. You explained to him that you’ll find some more by the other side of the house, and then told him to line up the ones you had given him.

“If I’m not back by th’ time you’re done, just go ahead. I might be findin’ somethin’ a lil’ more interestin’ than bottles.”

As you turned away to do your task, McCree thanked the heavens that the rules of the shooting range haven’t changed after all those years.

>>>

Your aim was impressive. As the two of you stood across each other and shot down targets, McCree can’t help but nod approvingly at your shots. When he asked you to shoot six targets off a fence, each one is knocked off clean with a speed that competed with his own. Even when he tries to one up you with tricks like spinning his revolver out before shooting, you do him one better by making twice the amount of spins before taking out targets that were farther than him. McCree knew he was a show off, but you were really rubbing it in.

Not that he minded anyway.

“Haven’t gotten your name, deputy,” McCree called over a shot.

“Can’t keep callin’ ya that now, can I?”

He heard a snort from beside him.

“You can and you will if you want to keep th’ hat from a bullet,” you replied mischievously, flashing him a grin.

McCree placed a hand on his hat protectively, making you holler.

“(Y/N) (L/N). Heard the last name before?” you asked.

“Sorta rings a bell,” he replied.

“Am I supposed t’know?”

You feigned hurt, and McCree rolled his eyes as he reloaded his gun.

“If you’ve ever heard of th’ ‘Desert Venom’ predicament, my father was th’ one who wrangled that rattlesnake. Our family’s known for handlin’ those devils, even got a couple myself,” you boasted, pointing a thumb at yourself for emphasis.

McCree smiled at your confidence.

“I know of those days; just didn’t know it was your Pa that got it,” McCree said, remembering news of a six foot long rattlesnake that went around New Mexico for a couple of months. He was in his teen years when it was taking place, and he was glad that the reptile had been caught before it could reach Santa Fe.

“Is that why your gun’s called Rattlesnake?” he asked.

You shrugged, “Sorta? A good gunsmith buddy of mine made her for me. I didn’t even ask ‘im t’design her like this, but he did, and I loved it.”

“Mind if I take a closer look?”

McCree had actually been eyeing your gun for a while. He didn’t notice it when you had the weapon straight at him, but the gold and silver embossing around the revolver got his attention in the span of your friendly competition. Stolen glances weren’t enough to really see what was on it (especially with you shooting at rapid speed, it was just the gun rolling back and forth and never staying still), but it was already eating at him.

He was half-expecting you to say no to him, since there were unspoken rules about handling fellow gunslingers’ guns, but McCree was shocked when you gestured the gun towards him.

“I’ll let you see her if you show me yours.”

He obliged, handing you Peacekeeper.

“Careful, she bites,” you joked as you watched him gawk over the amount of work on the gun.

The more he analyzed it the more details he found. The rattlesnake started from the frame from the revolver and coiled throughout. Engravings were left out from the cylinder but continued around the barrel, and despite it’s minimalized look it was clear that it was made to look as if the snake was striking with its open mouth aligned with the muzzle. McCree wished he had met your friend to applaud the work because heck, even the scales were insanely realistic to the touch.

“She’s a beauty,” he whistled.

“I have to say the same for yours,” you spoke. McCree watched as you held his gun, the same look of wonder and curiosity on your face.

“Name?”

“Peacekeeper.”

“That’s a lil’ ironic considering your work.”

McCree shrugged.

“You have a gun named after one of th’ most venomous snakes in New Mexico, and you’re an officer of th’ law. I’d say that’s ironic.”

You both shared a laugh.

“Let’s get out of th’ heat,” you offered, lightly tugging him by the serape to lead him back to the house.

Once you both were out of the desert sun and seated on the porch, the two of you shared some stories. McCree happily talked about his life when he still lived in New Mexico, occasionally dabbled into some Deadlock days, and quietly mumbled about Blackwatch events. You asked him some normal questions (“Favorite part of town?”, “Been to the High Side Saloon?”), but of course he expected some rather personal ones (“How did you join Deadlock?”). McCree answered those more-or-less truthfully, but when he only gave you silence you knew better than to test your luck.

“I apologize for prying too much,” you said sheepishly.

“Comes with years of interrogatin’ folks.”

You were a good fellow—McCree admitted to you that he enjoyed your company more than he expected—but he couldn’t get too comfortable with someone he just met. A feeling in his gut told him that maybe, just maybe, he could open up to you more with time.

You, on the other hand, talked freely about your life. Before becoming an officer, you were a bit of a rebel in your youth, wreaking havoc in your mother’s diner and stealing bikes parked around saloons. You were a kid with a dream to live up to your family name, capturing and wrangling dangerous snakes from across the lands. It was endearing to see the passion in your eyes, but then you explained that you had to become a deputy to earn money for your family. Your bright demeanor turned into one of disappointment.

“A trade-off, really,” you said sadly.

“Parents didn’t force me to do it either, but we needed more income. Snake wranglin’ can only give so much, and it really pays when something big is out there, which is rare.”

“What made you become an officer then?”

“Similarities. Instead of takin’ out poisonous snakes, I’m takin’ out poisonous people,” you answered, voice taking a more serious tone.

“See it this way: almost all snakes attack humans out of self defense. We take them out ‘cause we don’t want them t’hurt others, but killin’ doesn’t have t’be the first decision. They’re just out there survivin’. The snakes my family catch are relocated to research centers for antidotes.

“People on the other hand? It depends. If you’re protectin’ yourself, alright, I’m just gonna take a different plan for ya. If you’re savin’ someone, I’ll even help if there’s a more wicked party involved. But if you’re hurtin’ someone for th’ sole purpose of being a dick? I’m not about that. I make sure not to kill the guys, but if push comes to shove then a few bullets will need to hit some areas. They all end up in the county jail under my call.”

“So people are like snakes to you?” McCree asked.

“At the start of the job it looked that way, yeah, but after years under this hat, you learn how to decipher a person with a look or two.”

You hung your head down as your eyes were casted to the sands, a distant look on your face. You were probably thinking of those years, having to bring people behind bars for the crimes and felonies they committed. The contemplation made you look a lot older than you were, and McCree wondered if he looked the same on days where he would be in deep thought such as yourself.

“Is that why you haven’t arrested me yet?”

“You’re an outlaw worth sixty million, McCree, but I know a man with a good heart when I see one,” you said as looked at him straight in the eyes.

“Snakes will shed their skin for the season, and people can leave behind their pasts for the future. I know you’re not the man you once were.”

The two of you became silent.

“The way you reference your advice to snakes is almost unhealthy,” McCree chuckled after a moment.

You were about to retort to his statement until you see the genuine grin on his face.

“But I’ll have you know that all your words mean a lot to me.”

McCree watched as you blinked, clearly not expecting his response. You probably weren’t expecting him to be as understanding to your weird philosophy on life, and judging at how pleased you were, McCree would be more than welcome to listen to you talk a lot more. Your eyes then closed as a meek smile came upon your face, and a soft snort came from you as you mumbled something about him being a dork.

Just as you were about to speak, something started beeping. McCree shot up in his seat in alarm, but he noticed a flashing light from a metal wristband you wore on your left.

You had that the whole time?

“It’s a voice call, they won’t see you,” you assured him, pressing the small light on the metal. Before he could ask who you meant by “they��, a small blue hologram came up with a phone icon and words too small from him to read.

[ CALLING FROM: “THE HITCHING POST” SALOON, AMARILLO, NEW MEXICO ]

“Sheriff (Y/N) (L/N) speaking.”

Wait a minute, you were the sheriff? Not just a deputy?

“Sheriff!” a hurried voice called.

Gunshots were heard, and people were screaming from the other line. At this point you had gotten up, your face scrunched up in worry. McCree could only watch as your fists trembled.

“Officer, what’s goin—”

“It’s the Valley Marauders! T-They’re here again and we thought we could handle—”

CRASH!

“If any of ya shits call the cops on us, you’ve got a bullet waitin’ for ya!” a shrill voice rang before a rapid succession of shots came, all of which slightly muffled from all the sounds coming through.

“They just don’t learn their fuckin’ lesson,” you growled.

McCree held his tongue as he watched you worked quickly, sending a number of different messages and signals with the watch. He noticed as you pulled up one red screen with a striking snake symbol, and immediately swiping it up. From afar he heard a loud engine roar.

“I’ve sent more officers. Be there in five,” you answered through gritted teeth, clearly trying to stay calm for the sake of the victim.

“Please hurry—”

The line went dead.

McCree attempted to speak to you before he saw dust pick from his peripheral vision. He turned to look and there in the distance a driverless motorcycle came speeding down towards the two of you. The vehicle was a shimmering black and silver, it had glowing blue wheels indicating that it ran on a hard light technology, and it ran in a speed that would break all the laws in the world. The main thing however, was how it looked like a striking snake, based on the way the front area had been personalized.

The motorcycle came to an abrupt stop beside you, bringing with it all the dust from its travel. McCree coughed from all the sand, and just as the cloud dispersed, you were sat on the seat with both hands on the handlebars, revving the engine. On the side of the motorcycle were the words “Death Adder”, and if that wasn’t a better name for the bike, he didn’t know what would be. He didn’t think you could look more badass than you were before, but that thought was cast aside as you pulled him and sat him down behind you.

“Hold on to that hat of yours.”

>>>

When you said that you would be there in five minutes, five minutes was really all it took. McCree had passed Amarillo a number of times to know that from the shooting range, it was an approximate fifteen minute ride at the speed limit 70 mph. However, you kicked the gear to 140 mph (or was it higher? He couldn’t remember over ringing in his ears caused by the winds), effectively cutting time and making McCree wonder how people could handle speeds like these. You slowed down once you were within range of the town and parked just outside of it as to not give away your positions.

The area was quiet and deserted. Even the wind was still, making the air feel suffocating with the midday heat of the desert. You and McCree walked through the street, the clicks of his spurs echoing in the silence. When you make a turn, the road opened up to the main road, an open area that stretched to a cliffside closed off by wood fences.

“Just like the movies,” McCree noted.

“You think we’re gonna have a Mexican standoff?”

Just as you were about to joke back, a stout man walked out from an alleyway and stood twenty feet away at the middle of the road opposite of the both of you.

“I was thinkin’ you were never gonna show up, sheriff!” the man grinned, raising dual revolvers up in the air.

“Not I would mind! It’s ‘bout time you ran with your tail between your legs.”

“What do you want, Danford?” you growled.

“That’s Two-Shootin’ Sherrock to you, (L/N),” he hissed.

“Dual-wielding devil! Gang leader of the Valley Marauders! And you best be rememberin’ it when my bullet hits ya!”

“Hey now, since when did anyone give you the permission to make that call?” Mccree said, taking a step forward.

“If anythin’, you’re the one who’s gonna be takin’ a bullet from the sheriff's gun.”

The man’s eyes widened before narrowing, his grin becoming even wider.

“Well,” he dawled, “if it ain’t Jesse McCree.”

“I’m surprised you’re with the sheriff! Aren’cha just as bad as us?”

McCree glanced at you, then back at Danford.

“I’m not bad, not good… but I sure as hell ain’t ugly.”

You tried to keep your smile down, you really did, but the chuckle escaped you. The stout man puffed up in anger, making him appear bigger than he was. Danford brought his fingers to his mouth and made a long shrill whistle. McCree watched as your eyes widened before taking out Rattlesnake, and he took it as a sign to take out Peacekeeper.

“I’m guessin’ that’s bad.”

“No shit, cowboy.”

Footsteps came from multiple directions. McCree’s first guess was that ten men would come out, but after the thirteenth one he was weighing his options as how to go about the situation. Twenty men trapped the both you in a circle. They all stood fifteen feet away from you, and all were armed with a weapon. More than half had their guns at you, but that did little to lessen McCree’s nerves. Peacekeeper only had seven bullets, and even with a quick reload to take out fourteen, their bullets would be shot before he knew it.

“What’re ya gonna do, sheriff?” Danford called from the other side.

You hissed, and McCree had to do a double-take to make sure you actually did that.

“What did you do to the people?”

The gang leader laughed before snapping his fingers.

From his left, two gang members walked out carrying a limp body. McCree watched as you stiffened at the sight: an officer whose face was beaten in, blue, and bleeding. He was alive, but if kept in his current state it didn’t take a genius to know that he wouldn’t last long. You were shaking in rage, and McCree had to take hold of your wrist to keep you grounded.

“This lil’ guy,” Danford gestured, propping the officer’s chin up with the end of his gun. At the sight of discomfort, McCree tightened his grip as you pulled.

“He called you, yeah? Well, we didn’t like that, so we taught ‘im a lesson. And honestly? You gotta get better men! They’re all cozy over by the back of the saloon.”

“Put the gun down!” you yelled.

You lunged forward, but one of the gang members quickly stepped forward and harshly pushed a gun into your temple. You stood still with the barrel pointed straight at you, but no effort was made to move back. McCree gritted his teeth as he pulled you beside him, wrapping an arm by your waist to keep you from at bay... for now.

“How sweet,” the gang member who had pointed the gun at you smiled mockingly.

“Is the outlaw your boyfriend now? How would that look on your reputation, sheriff?”

McCree couldn’t see your expression.

Danford pushed the gun further into the chin of your officer, and at the sight of more pain you struggled under McCree’s grip. He held unto you tighter, not wanting you to get a bullet or twenty into either of you.

“I swear to the all the gods, Jesse,” you murmured just enough from him to hear, “release me.”

“No can do, sheriff,” he replied.

“Bad things come out of people without a plan.”

A face came to McCree’s mind, but the memory was suppressed.

His words were enough to calm you down as your posture slackened. McCree released his hold as you stood straight, looking down at Rattlesnake. Danford barked an order from afar, and all the guns around you were loaded. McCree felt a light jab at his side, and he moved to stay back-to-back with you. You held the brim of your hat before taking it off it completely, a clear sign that you meant business. Before McCree could ask, you pushed your hat into his free hand.

“I didn’t want to use this,” you sighed, grip tightening on your revolver. McCree could feel heat building up from the side where you held your gun.

“At my call, I need you to get down.”

The tone in your voice was similar to when you had threatened him earlier that day, but the malice in your voice was not directed to him. McCree knew that you couldn’t see his nod, but the sentiment was taken as he heard the familiar click of a gun.

“Now!”

BANG!

Silence followed

Your ejector rod clicked the cylinder out, making multiple shell casings hit the ground. McCree peered up to notice a dust cloud clear around him, and he realized that you had done a full 360 turn based on the skids on the dirt. He clutched your hat closer to his chest, and the gunslinger looked beside him to count almost twenty-four empty casings on a pile, not believing that you had shot and loaded quadruple the amount of bullets in your gun.

What in tarnation—

“Argh!”

McCree looked up to see each gang member drop one by one, each clutching to one of their sides. He looked up at you just as you blew the smoke from your gun, and when you looked down at him to give him a small smirk.

“What? Did’ya think that only guys like you had all the flashy shit?”

Once all the bodies hit the ground, McCree handed you your hat as you pulled him up. The leader was shaking. The two gang members who had brought in your officer had fled the scene, leaving Danford to hold up the unconscious man by the scruff of his uniform. He was shaking so much McCree was convinced he’d turn himself in, but when the gun is pointed to the head of the unconscious man, McCree just knew the guy was stubborn.

“Now, y’know I don’t like repeatin’ myself,” you spoke you walked forward. McCree’s gun was pointed straight at the man.

You and McCree backed Danford up to the fence, the wood creaking by the pressure of the man who tried to find an escape route. The cliff was steep slope that curved into a desert meadow with high grasses and rocks. Most gang members would take the opportunity to get down the hill with the assured safety of the grass, but it was obvious that Danford didn’t have the physicality to do so.

“STAY BACK!” Danford yelled, pushing the tip of the gun into a wound, making the officer wince.

McCree sucked in a breath.

“Come on now, Sherrock, no need to get all riled up.”

You and the gang leader looked at him incredulously.

“What?” you seethed.

McCree pointed his gun to you, and you held your hands up. You had no more bullets to shoot.

“Put the man over to the side, and I won’t let the sheriff get t’ ya.”

“McCree, what—”

“Gun down, (L/N).”

Your eyes widened before your expression shifted, and you put your gun back to your holster. He tipped his head down to nod at Danford, and you barely caught the wink he gave you under the brim of his hat.

Sneaky.

Danford wasn’t convinced by McCree’s sudden willingness to help him, so you took the initiative to back away, hands up to prove that you weren’t able to pull anything on him. The man gave McCree a grin, thinking that he had won with the help of a fellow outlaw, then threw the officer to the side. You ran over to him to inspect the wounds; the damage had been done, and he would have to be out of commission for a while.

“Now partner,” Danford said, patting McCree by the shoulder while grinning mockingly at you.

“What do you think we should do ‘bout the deputy? I say we should beat ‘em! It’s two against one!”

The leader was too busy reveling in his “win” that he hasn’t noticed the shift under McCree’s serape. Just as he turned his attention back to him, a flashbang was thrown at him square in the face. You whistled as you watched Danford fall to the ground; it would be an understatement to say that it hurt, judging by the burns to the face. Unfortunately, McCree was barely a few feet away, so he also got the force of the flash.

You ran up to help him, but you weren’t fast enough as he staggered back, lost his footing, and fell on his behind.

“You’re smart,” you said to him with a smile, kneeling beside him to check for any injuries. Besides a slightly singed beard, you handed him a small patch that used biotic technology.

“But reckless. Really reckless.”

“Been livin’ life that way,” he groaned.

“I go with a plan, but I never promise they’d work out perfectly.”

A small beep came from your watch. A hologram was pulled up between you and McCree, and you cursed under your breath. The reinforcements that you had called before your fight had gotten in a scuffle with another gang, and they were just about to reach the scene. While you were glad to get help to rally up the Valley Marauders, McCree would get taken in the moment he would be spotted.

You looked at the fence, and then an idea came.

“Roll off the hill.”

McCree froze just as he was placing the patch you had given him.

“Roll off the hill?” he repeated, looking over the slope.

“Go.”

“Are you shitting me—”

“It’s sloped. Do you trust me?”

McCree slapped his knee with a sarcastic bark, “Don’t you pull that bull—”

“I will kick you off and hope a combat roll is automatic, cowboy,” you commanded.

“Now, do you trust me?”

McCree glanced at you, then at the thirty foot slope awaiting him after the wooden fence.

“… Looks like I got no call in this, sher—”

You swiftly kicked a part of the old fence down, and the wood that rolled off the hill did little to help the situation. McCree is given no time to comprehend what was happened as you grabbed him by his arm, pulled him to the edge, and pushed him.

“Sorry!”

The first two seconds brought more pain to his behind as he hit a few rocks, but McCree willed his body to get into a combat roll as his armor and serape helped against more debris. He skidded down the remaining slope and into the grassy meadow just as he regained balance. Years of being on the run definitely helped, but even then your idea had been uncalled for.

McCree watched as the dust cleared from his trip down the slope. From the top, he could hear the roaring of motorcycle and car engines, boots stomping over the dirt, and your voice barking out orders to deal with what the gang had done. He narrowly missed a few cops that looked over the cliff by rolling into a crevasse of a neighboring hill.

He watched as you stood by the cliff, pointing to the general direction of where he was. For a second, McCree thought you had ratted him out, but after a moment your officers went back to the direction of the town. Just as a few minutes pass, he heard car doors close and the motorcycles speeding away. You still stood by the cliff, and McCree poked his head out just enough for you to see him. With a wave, you skidded down the slope just as he did, albeit a lot more gracefully.

“What’d you tell them?” he asked, walking to you as you dusted yourself off.

“Had them round up the gang,” you explained.

“Apparently someone got word of us meetin’. Told them you got a hit on me and fled.”

“Damn, that’d look good on my resume, wouldn’t it? ‘Escaped the snake sheriff of Amarillo who can can shoot twenty men with a rattlesnake revolver and ride a badass Adder motorcycle’. How the hell did you do that?”

McCree paused as you snorted.

“And you didn’t tell me you were the sheriff! Highest ranking officer of the county! Good lord, where are all your badges?”

At this point you were doubled over, laughing at how McCree was fussing over not addressing you properly—it was cute. He crossed his arms over his chest with a pout, but a small smile came upon his face to see that even after what had happened, you were doing well. You wouldn’t show it, but he was sure that seeing your people in danger had shaken you up.

“About badges, I don’t wear ‘em ‘til I have to. The amount’s too heavy,” you shrugged. To this, McCree sighed.

“And about my shootin’?”

You hummed.

“Let’s just say Rattlesnake doesn’t use normal bullets.”

McCree was about to comment on that line, but he figured that was a whole conversation for another time.

“Now that the fun’s over,” you said, kicking the dirt below you.

“What’re ya gonna do now?”

The realization hit him like a bullet; he was heading back to Gibraltar tomorrow morning. McCree would be picked up by Lena at a town just north of Amarillo, and as much as he wanted to lengthen his stay, he already had a mission waiting for him when he got back. A few days definitely wasn’t enough, but what could he do?

“My trip ends tomorrow, so I gotta pack up,” McCree said, looking down to fiddle with the end of his serape.

“How ‘bout you?”

You pressed your watch, and soon there’s the loud engine of your bike from the distance.

The both of you stood in comfortable silence, neither of you wanting speaking up as you were in each other’s company. When McCree glanced at you, you were looking at him. A faint smile was on your face, but your eyes showed how you felt the same about each other’s departure.

“You’ve done an awful lot for lil ol’ me,” McCree spoke up, tucking his hands into his pockets.

“Like I said, I know a good heart,” you said.

McCree lent out a hand for you to shake, but just as you took it, you pulled him in for a hug. He’s taken aback for a moment, but he eased into the embrace, lingering a little longer than intended.

Now, he really wished he could stay.

“Besides,” you added, pulling away for him to see a grin on your face.

“I also know a good-lookin’ guy when I see one.”

The bike arrived. McCree stood by as you mounted it, subtly mentioning about how he would love to ride it sometime, to which you give him a shrug and a “maybe” to his request. The two of you shared one more laugh together, clearly trying to stall for a bit more time.

"Y'know,” he piped up just as you revved the engine.

“If we knew each other back in th' day, possibly back at th' shootin’ range, I have a good feelin’ that we’d be great partners.”

You tipped your hat at him, and McCree returned the gesture.

“Who says we can’t be?

McCree grinned.

“See ya soon.”

“I’m sure ya will.”

[paindivinez]

“i don’t love you like i did yesterday” - Overwatch x Reader

Pairing: Male!Overwatch Character x Gender-Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Angst.

Summary: You can’t just stop loving someone.

Can you?

Notes: This fic can actually be counted as an original work as I don’t see it particularly being for any specific character, but i think it fits most with Soldier: 76, Gabriel Reyes, Genji, Hanzo, or McCree so just feel free to take it as whoever.

It had started with your voice.

Once a source of comfort and relief, now like screeching daggers to his ears. He supposed that particular one night after a mission gone wrong and you just talking so much (even though you meant to assure him of his innocence) lead to that.

He had just wanted to sleep.

Then it was how you touched him.

Once a place where he felt safe and loved in, your arms were now straitjackets of warmth, suffocating him in your body heat.

At the peak of your relationship, trailing your fingertips down his body made him melt into you, curling tighter around your body. But now he resisted your advances, gingerly taking your hands and placing them somewhere else.

He just didn’t feel like it tonight.

Then it was just… you.

You, with all of your quirky things that made him laugh. You, with your bright smile and quick wit that made him appreciate you. You, with your soft skin and understanding eyes that he adored. You, you, you.

Everything that made you you had made him love you, but somewhere along the line, his love changed.

Doubt crawled into his mind, poisoning his perception of you. A disease created to cause strife and discord, he no longer saw you as the person he fell in love with.

Everything you did caused him a headache now, every word like a buzzing annoyance, every action an eyesore, every decision a mistake.

You noticed, of course you did. You couldn’t outrightly forget the looks of distaste he sent you sometimes when he thought you weren’t looking. You couldn’t turn a blind eye to how he never responded to your texts and kisses anymore.

You couldn’t ignore the signs that pointed to him not loving you anymore.

But you kept quiet, because deep in your heart, you believed that he still loved you a tiny bit, if not as much as when he first dated you.

And you endured.

You endured all the stoic touches, all the one-word texts, all the awkward silences, all the robotic kisses, if you could even call them that.

Kisses were supposed to be love-filled, passionate acts of desire and mutual companionship, and he had kissed you like that before. But these “kisses” were more like placing his lips on your cheek.

Detached.

Cold.

Unloving.

But you carried on, until you couldn’t take it anymore.

You had broken a plate. It was a simple situation, nothing to cry over, just messy to clean up. You should’ve been more careful, but a lot was on your mind.

(A lot being him.)

You ended up cutting your foot on a shard of ceramic.

You winced and sat down, and it was at this exact moment that he walked into the hall, saw you on the kitchen floor examining your bleeding foot, silently looked away and carried on.

You felt tears starting to form, and immediately chided yourself for it. Weak, weak, weak. He didn’t even say anything!

But that was kind of the point, wasn’t it?

You dried your eyes and started to clean up, throwing away the broken plate and bandaging your injury.

Back then, he babied you, fussing over even the smallest of bruises, or the simplest of paper cuts. He treated you like a princess that deserved everything.

You missed that. You missed him.

Wetness ran down your cheeks. Great, you were crying again.

The more you thought about it, the more determined you got. This was the very last straw.

You steeled yourself and walked into the living room.

He was just sitting there, focussed on his holopad. If he noticed you come in, he didn’t show it.

A tense silence grew, but was quickly killed.

“Do you not love me anymore?”

Fuck. You meant for that to come out stronger. Now you just sounded pathetic to him, you were sure.

He stayed silent, and you felt your stomach flip.

“No, I don’t think so.”

He said this cooly, detachedly.

You were expecting it, yet it still hurt, worse than any other bullet wound you’d ever experienced in all your years of being an Overwatch agent.

“Okay.” You bit your lip as tears slipped down your face. You restrained yourself from sniffling.

“Why?”

On hearing your voice crack, he flinched. “I…”

Pause.

“I don’t know,” He finished lamely, though he could probably list off all the things about you that made him tick; all the things that made him fall out of love with you.”

“That’s bullshit and you know it.” The despair you were feeling simmered, flickering and flaring, anger beginning to form. “Is there someone else?”

He stared at you, scoffing. “Please. You think I have the time to find someone else to cheat on you with? And do you really think so lowly of me that I’d do that to you?”

You raised your voice an octave higher. “I don’t know, you never talk to me anymore! You’ve changed! The man I fell in love with would never cheat, but I don’t know who you are at all.”

Your tone was more scathing than he’s ever heard in all the years that he’s known you. Staring blankly at the wall, he hears you sigh. Without even looking st you, he can picture you in his mind’s eye: wet-faced, chest heaving, red-eyed. All the characteristics of a broken-hearted, exhausted you.

You turn to leave, and he lets you. He sees the hurt in the sway of your footsteps, in how your muscles tense, in the red of your face.

And for the first time in a few weeks, months maybe - he feels for you. His chest aches, and he wishes he could turn back time. His mouth opens to croak out a “wait” -

But he finds that he can’t speak a word.

As you leave with the broken pieces of your heart clutched in your fingers, you unknowingly carry with you the shards of his, too.

find me on AO3!

[sxnxsterdrabblings]

just something to think about... :)

—NSFW UNDER THE CUT

You suffer from anxiety. Ordering a meal on your own and going to the grocery store are enough to send you into panic mode. Your best friend/neighbor invites you over for thanksgiving, and promises it’s only a small gathering, so you decide to go. And it is, really, but it’s still got you riled up. You kept making eye contact with a very tall, gruff man baring a heavy accent.

When everyone makes haste into the living room to chat over a glass of wine, the man pulls you to the side and introduces himself as Mccree. His voice is smooth, low, and very calming. He tells you he’s noticed your twitching and nervous looks, and that he’ll walk you out if you’d like. You shyly nod, look up at him, and let a quiet thank you slip your lips. When you reach your door, he slips you his number for any future times you may need his help, and you would have told him that it was fine and this was enough from him, but he was gone as soon as he came. You couldn’t help but admit it made you feel warm inside.

One day a couple months later you really need to go out and do laundry, because yours has so conveniently stopped working. So you do, but it’s packed, and you’ve bumped into a couple people with angry glares and now you’re panicking. You barely manage to text an “I need you”

It really wasn’t the best choice of words, but it was enough, and it was short enough to be typed as fast as you needed him to be there.

He asks where you are, but you’re too busy shaking in the bathroom hearing all the commotion outside. Before you know it, he’s carrying you out of the bathroom and taking your keys out of your pockets, whispering to you that it’s going to be alright and rubbing a hand down your back. He unlocks the car and places you in the passenger seat. Then, he leaves and comes back with your loads of laundry. You shakily whisper a thank you. He nods and says “It’s no problem, darlin’.” Then he takes you home.

You thank him again and when you walk inside, you notice a pair of panties missing. It’s no big deal, they’re small and could have easily been left in the machine or fallen from the basket. Little do you know, you never actually told him where you were, and he’s home jacking off to the smell of you, planning when to take more than just your underwear home with him. He already has blueprints of a cozy little room to build into the basement for you, with locks of course. What could he say? Watching you for those few months before this day was the best choice he’s ever made.

Ever since he was invited to that first thanksgiving by an old friend and saw you, it was meant to be. You were so enticing and shy, he couldn’t help but envision himself taking care of you. He thought it might be crazy, but then he heard your voice. It struck him in all the right places, and seeing you look up at him being so timid and quiet? You were doomed from the moment you laid eyes on him.

[niishiki]

A birthday present for @paranoidmaru <3 <3 <3 It’s crap I hope you are proud of yourself now xD

[hexagon-imagines]

I kinda twisted the prompt

McCree

“Bilasáana.” He said holding the red fruit in his hand. “Bilasaana.” You said after him. “No, no, no Bilasàana.”

Learning Navajo was not the easiest, especially since it was a dying language

“Ok, let’s try this, this is a bee azkʼazí or a fridge, this is a bee naʼniildóhó or microwave, now you try!”

He’s very patient with you and very encouraging. He gets so excited when you pronounce thing correctly or start having a conversation with him

Gabriel

“Manzana.” He gestured with the apple in his hand before taking a bite out of it. “Manzana.”, “No you’re not pronouncing it right, you gotta lean into it with an accent.”

Spanish wasn’t very hard but then again it wasn’t easy, there’s plenty of literature and people who speak it

“Alright this is a?”, “Libro.” You nodded before eating another bite of cereal “Good and this is a?”

He’s very patient, although he will stop you and make you say things over again and that’s kind of frustrating

Moira

“Is ainm dom.” She said slowly with a small flashcard in her hand. “Is…ainm dom?”, “Good, say your name after that and you’re golden, let’s go over it again.”

Lucky for you she knows how speak Irish and is more then glad to teach you

“ An maith leat na bróga seo?” She said, trying to get you to be able to have conversations. “Is maith liom na bróga seo.”, “Go maith, agus na cinn seo?”

Very by the book, like she writes out flashcards, schedules out sessions, and labels things. Secretly very excited that you have an interest in learning the language

[sleepyfaequeen]

Jealousy

A/n: So sorry for those who have requested stories. I am getting to them. I'm getting married so I've been planning my own wedding as of late. I shall be getting back to writing more very soon. Still feel free to request. See you all very soon!

Warnings: fluff, Gabriel Reyes x fem!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Gabriel Reyes x reader

Almost everyone in Overwatch knew Gabriel Reyes as a very sarcastic, dark humored, and seriously scary guy. He knew how to get under people's skin quite easily. He even pissed off Commander Morrison, which was never a good thing. The one thing Reyes never talked about was his home life and for good reasons too.

He was on his way to start the Blackwatch meeting when he enters their private meeting room. He hears the voices within the room quiet down and looks up. His eyes once serious widen as he sees (Y/n) standing with the Blackwatch agents he worked with: McCree, Moira and Genji. All of them seeming to be looking at him and the mysterious woman they knew nothing about. He felt his heart beating fast as he didn't expect such a sudden surprise visit. Was it getting hot in here?

"Reyes, mi amor." (Y/n) smirked with half-lidded eyes that just told him she was teasing him.

"I.. Mi amor?" Gabriel whispers as his posture- specifically his shoulders, loosened up. How can he be so stiff when she was around. The light of his life. "How are you.. all the way in here?" With that sudden question, he could already see how upset his soon to be was.

"Jack, let me in. I even got a special pass for the future." She wiggles the small card with a blue lanyard attached to it. "Of course with a small fee."

"I didn't realize our old Commander Reyes was dat'in a cute lady like yourself." McCree smiles as he approached the two. He regrets ever bonding with McCree. He taught him too many Spanish words.

"Oh, me and Reyes aren't dating." (Y/n) couldn't help but show off her left hand and reveal a golden ring on her finger. Reyes couldn't help but feel a sense of pride at how his soon to be wife showed off she was his. "I'm his fiancé." Something about it made him puff out his chest proudly.

"Oh well, congratulations!" The cowboy cheers.

--

Immediately, Jack could hear his office door being met with multiple bangings from what he assumed was a fist. He hurriedly munched down the churros as the door slides open revealing a pissed Gabriel with Ana running behind him before the doors closed behind them.

".. Yes?" Jack answered after swallowing the churros and wiping the crumbs off his lip.

"My wife made those churros, Jack." Gabriel glares sternly as Ana was breathing heavily from the sudden running she had to do.

"I can tell.." Jack slowly munched another churro before stopping as Reyes spoke.

"They were for me, Jack. You know damn well." He points at his superior who hasmd some crumbs on his lip and cheeks.

"But she offered me some?" Jack argued with a mouthful. His voice came out small before he swallow and continues. "Your being very unreasonable, Reyes."

"Stop taking MY food." Gabriel shakes his head with a sneer. "Get someone else to make you churros, Commander Jackass!" He grumbles as Ana watched Reyes stomp out the office before turning to speak to Jack.

"I'm sorry! I can't handle when something looks so good!" Jack argues as he pouts at his desk.

"I know Jack.." Ana sighs as she looks to Reyes who stomps over to the elevator. "You forget Gabe doesn't like being challenged."

"I wasn't trying to do that." He raised his brow.

"Well.. you certainly know how to pick your fights, Jack." Ana chuckles as Jack grumbles as he munches on the sweetly baked goods. He was sure to ask for the recipe. Maybe then Vincent wouldn't call him bad at baking.

[hopeiveryoverwatchocrp]

Overwatch Drabble - McHanzo

Title: Marked By The Dragon (McHanzo Oneshot)

Here’s a little oneshot I wrote a while back. Thought I’d share it here :)  Words: 1652

Bold text means someone is speaking in a different language (In this case, Japanese)

*******

Jesse McCree could have never felt more like the universe stabbed him in the back than today. Of all his missions to go wrong, it had to be this one. Rumor was that the Shimada Clan was in cahoots with the giant terrorist organization, Talon, and that they were considering a partnership to strengthen their forces not just across Japan, but all of Asia as well. Jesse was chosen from his Blackwatch team to go undercover in Hanamura, Japan, the home territory of the Shimada Clan, to try and learn more of this partnership.

What would this mean? More weapons? Trained terrorists and assassins popping up in worldwide crisis’s? Put them all together, and you get a whole lot of trouble. Which was what Jesse McCree was in at that very moment. He was snooping around a dock owned by the assassin empire, checking out a recent weapon shipment that was sent to the clan by Talon. He was blind-sighted, struck in the back of the head and then everything went black.  

When he managed to flutter his eyes open, he felt light headed. His wrists were tied behind his back. A sack was placed over his head, his vision recovering from the hit. He felt empty, like something was missing. It was his hat. He cursed quietly under his breath. That was his favourite hat. Once he figures out where the heck he was, Jesse was going to let’em have it.

Through the sack’s fabric, he could tell that he appeared to be inside a well decorated room. A floral, fruity, scent caught his nose. Was that *sniff sniff* … sake? He’s never tasted it, but he sure knew the smell of it. Especially if the stuff expired and the stench went south.

A voice growled, ordering a command in Japanese. “Remove it,” Jesse felt a hand grab the back collar of his shirt before the sack was pulled away from his face, the lights of the room temporary blinding him before his eye sight adjusted themselves and his gaze well upon, him.

Sitting before him in a leather booth was Hanzo Shimada, the newly inherited emperor of the Shimada Clan, taking over after Sojiro Shimada passed away a couple months ago. He wore an excellently tailored black suit with a light pink dress shirt underneath that was un-buttoned, revealing a small v-neck of his torso. Glancing over at his left hand, Jesse could just barely see the tip of the blue and black ink of the Shimada’s famous tattoo. Jesse has seen photos of it online, but never in-person. That thing was a mighty fine piece of work. Hanzo sure was something else in Jesse's eyes ...

Come to think of it, Jesse has never seen Hanzo in the flesh either. Talk about making a good first impression.

“We caught him snooping around at the docks,” A guard explained. “We believe he was going to sabotage our shipments,”

Hanzo raised his hand, signaling the man to stop speaking. He took the glass of sake in his hand, taking a sip of his favourite liquor. “An Overwatch agent? How intriguing … “

Hanzo set the drink back down on the table before leaning back in his seat, legs crossed, left arm spread down along the rim of the chair as he gave the cowboy a stare that sent a chill down Jesse’s spine. He gulped, mustering up enough courage to speak. “Do you speak English?”

Hanzo smirked, huffing with amusement. “Quite fluently,”

“Two things; First, I wasn’t trying to sabotage anything,” Jesse began. “Secondly, where the hell is my hat?”

Hanzo’s smirk decreased slightly, glancing over to check his nails as he spoke. “Then what were you up to, snooping around on our territory? Tell me, and I’ll tell you what has become of your proud accessory.”  

Jesse clutched his jaw, glaring at the Shimada. He was teasing him. If it were something else, he would have made a comment about scraping the dang thing, but no. That hat was special to him.

“I was gathering intel for my organization,” he answered truthfully. “Your clan is gathering up more supplies than usual. All thanks to your new buddies at Talon?”

Hanzo hummed with content, turning his attention back to McCree. “So Overwatch finally figured it out,”

“Why would you assassin’s even team up with scum like them?” Jesse questioned. “You guys are already quite high and mighty handling things on your own,”

“It was not my choice, but my fathers,” Hanzo corrected. He stood up from his seat, taking the glass in his hand as he walked over to the bar across the room. “It was one of his last acts as Leader of the Shimada Clan. In memory of him, I intend to respect his wishes, and honor our new allies.”

“Aw, did daddy force you to do something you didn’t like?” Jesse mocked.

Another guard yelped in Japanese before punching Jesse square in the face. If he aimed his fist a little higher, he would have broken Jesse’s nose. With that being said, it was still bleeding quite a bit.

“That’s enough,” Hanzo commanded, pouring the glass as he appeared unfazed by the action of his guard. He turned back around to look at Jesse, watching as tiny drops of his blood dripped onto the wood panel floorboards beneath them. “I may not have approved of it at first, but Talon does provide the Shimada Clan with a few things that even we do not possess. In return, we assist them with any side matters that needs attending to,”

“Your basically their own personal Assassin’s now,” Jesse remarked.

“They already have plenty of their own, but it does have their advantages,” Hanzo replied. “Which is why I’ve asked my men to bring you here,”

What? Jesse raised a brow at the man as he walked back towards his seat, setting the drink back down on the table. “Come again?”

Hanzo laughed, stuffing his hands into his pant pockets as he looked over at the cowboy. “How hard did my men hit you in the back of the head?”

“What do you want from me?!” Jesse demanded.

“I want you to do a job for me. Recently, someone has become a thorn on Talon’s side. Hacking their networks, stealing valuable data, any sort of damage she can do at a distance. With their agents otherwise preoccupied, their leader has kindly requested that I handle it for them,” Hanzo explained, slowly stalking towards the cowboy. “The girl’s name is Hope Ivery.”

“You want me to track her down for you?” Jesse asked for clarification.

Hanzo didn’t say anything at first until he knelt in front of the cowboy, “I want you to find her, and kill her,”

Jesse’s eyes widened with shock as he processed the request that was given to him. For all he knew, this Hope Ivery lady could be just an innocent bystander. Was she really causing Talon so much trouble that they had to hire the criminal empire of the Shimada Clan to track her down?

“And if I refuse?” He spoke.

Within a flash, Hanzo pulled out a knife from his jacket pocket and pressed it against Jesse’s neck. The cowboy caught his breath, not daring to make a move. “I’m so sorry to hear about Captain Amari. Such a devastating loss on Overwatch’s part,”

Jesse froze like a statue. How in the hell did he–!

“How is her daughter doing? Little Fareeha?” Hanzo went on, a devilish grin on his face. “Well, considering how much time has passed, I suppose she’s all grown up now. But it would be such a shame if she were to unexpectedly meet the same fate as her mother,”

That’s where he drew the line. McCree narrowed his eyes at Hanzo, puffing his chest. He loved Fareeha like a sister ever since he first joined Overwatch, like the sibling he’s always wanted. And now Hanzo Shimada was threatening her life?!

“If you do this job for me, McCree, both of your lives will be spared, and it would be like this evening didn’t even happen. All you have to do is make Miss Ivery’s death look like an accident,” Hanzo reasoned, tilting the knife ever so slightly. “Do we have a deal?”

Jesse’s eyes shifted between Hanzo and the knife for a few moments. This guy wasn’t really giving him a choice, was he? A life for a life…

Jesse’s stature relaxed, narrowing his eyes straight into Hanzo’s cruel soul. “Deal…”

[lochdandloaded]

From Me To You (Oneshot)

Rating: T Pairing(s): McCree/Hanzo (McHanzo) Warnings/Triggers: Animal death(s), mentions of blood, mild swearing Notes: Mermaid AU, Mermaid!McCree, Human!Hanzo, guess who’s the furry Summary: A misunderstanding between species leads to a surprising show of feelings and opens a certain archer’s eyes to what their unusual connection could mean.

A fic for @kannibal‘s MerCree AU over on Twitter (go check it out for more info and art!!) <3 And some writing practice for me should I ever open writing commissions.

AO3 || Twitter || Ko-Fi || Storenvy

Read below the cut

The penguins had only been the beginning of the madness.

Not long after meeting the mer-creature (merman? Mer-seal? Mer-Flirts-A-Lot?) Jesse, Hanzo had opened the door to his lone outpost cabin and was welcomed by a bleeding, barely alive Adélie penguin. Once he’d swallowed down the panic and grabbed the bird in a towel, he rushed it to the Ecopoint main base and gave it to someone with basic first aid knowledge.

His colleagues questioned him end to end and all he could divulge was that he had no clue about anything (never before had that been more true than it was now). They dropped it soon enough and before long, Hanzo forgot about the incident entirely.

Then he had a very dead, torn up toothfish dumped on his doorstep that left him all the more confused.

(How the fuck had a toothfish gotten out of the northern fisheries?!)

By the time the fifth dead and de-feathered Chinstrap penguin greeted him at his door, Hanzo had enough and stormed out to investigate the source, bow and quiver across his back (should he feel like indulging his trigger finger). The trail of blood led him to the rocky beach where he knew Jesse’s beloved walruses sunned themselves, though this early in the morning it was barren except, speak of the devil…

“If it ain’t the most handsome whaler son t’ step foot on this beach,” Jesse announced from his spot in the shallow waves, fins slapping against the water as he preened and smirked.

Hanzo glared.

“What the hell have you been doing?”

Hanzo crossed his arms as he marched over, holding back a shiver against the harsh coastal breeze and keeping his gaze solely on Jesse’s face, no lower no matter how tempting it was to appreciate the mer’s humanoid half.

He stopped once he was close enough to smack the coral hat off Jesse’s smug head and kept glaring as the mer fumbled to catch it.

“Hey—!”

“I know it’s you who’s been leaving dead penguins at my cabin, Jesse.” Hanzo scoffed and put his hands on his hips, scowling as Jesse put his hat back on and pushed himself up to eye level.

“Darlin’, I’m just helping—”

“How?”

Hanzo took a breath and blinked, flushing at how close Jesse leaned in. He pulled back enough to keep the red away from the mer’s inquisitive stare and pulled his hood over his freezing ears, then rubbed his arms quickly. Jesse watched carefully.

“Han, don’t think I ain’t noticed that ya don’t have food at your home,” Jesse started, voice soft enough Hanzo felt it rather than heard it, even with the gap between them. “It ain’t nothing to be ‘shamed of, hell it took Papá years to stop me from expectin’ bucket scraps an’ even longer to get me huntin’ on my own—”

Wait, what?

Hunting? “That’s what this is about?”

“Yeah, darlin’?”

The mer thought he couldn’t hunt? Him - Shimada Hanzo, raised in a family infamous for whaling and killing - couldn’t hunt for himself on this patch of melting ice? That he needed help from someone who wasn’t even human—

Hanzo felt his ire and pride flair as he buried his face into his palm, grinding his teeth and barely resisting the urge to growl at the absurdity of it all. It would be easy, so so easy to snap and never look back, unleash his irritation on someone who…

Who wasn’t human.

What did Jesse know of cafeterias, mess halls, refrigerators, bento boxes and leftovers in tupperware? Sea leopards were solitary creatures  by nature, fending for themselves from a young age with no thought to how any others survived. Sure, Jesse wasn’t the same, but it was enough to give Hanzo pause.

It wasn’t Jesse’s fault, he wasn’t to blame.

A loud squawk brought Hanzo to full attention, glancing over his shoulder. An albatross was hopping across the rocks some distance away, plucking washed up krill and crabs from the sandy gaps.

Jesse peered with him, raising an eyebrow into that mess he dared to call hair, curiosity crinkling the corner of his eyes, dark skin glistening with salt that dried out his mouth at the thought of his taste—

A snap of his wrist brought his bow into grip, arrow loaded and flying before he had a chance to let go of his breathe.

The arrow burst through the bird’s head in silence, pinned to the uneven ground without so much as a twitch in the legs.

Hanzo smirked and looked back at Jesse, pride practically glowing from his very being. The mer was staring wide, pupils blown to hide every trace of brown, hand and claw hung uselessly in midair and his mouth was agape, showing off his sharp teeth. What really caught his eye was the bright blush all over his face, neck, creeping down to his generous chest, highlighting the freckles and faint scars peppered over his skin.

A low chittering slipped past Jesse’s loose lips and he didn’t stop staring, though his tail thumped against the waves and his powerful muscles tightened under the blubber. He was full of rightful fear, awe and something else entirely that Hanzo didn’t recognise on his particular face.

Hanzo cleared his throat and shouldered his bow. Jesse didn’t budge.

“I can hunt perfectly fine myself.” He reached out and pushed the mer’s mouth shut, flicking his bright nose before turning away to fetch his arrow.

The gaze burnt into his back the entire time, even as he left the beach and returned home.

0XX0

Hanzo didn’t really see Jesse again for a while after the confrontation on the beach. February rolled into March, then April, and the most Hanzo saw of him was a startled jump into the nearest body of water when their eyes met (he thought he’d spotted the mer when the elephant seals came on land to molt, but nothing came of it).

Well, the dead penguins and (possibly) stolen fish at his doorstep had stopped for good.

But Hanzo found himself missing Jesse’s company. As strange and annoying he could be sometimes, his visits brought joy to this new life of Hanzo’s that his colleagues couldn’t compare to. For another species, Jesse was surprisingly easy to get along with, most days.

So of course, the morning Hanzo decided to catch the mer, Jesse came to him instead.

He opened the door to his cabin to find the mer standing too closely to the frame, hands behind his back and face caught in the headlights. Hanzo froze, blinking as he took in the sight. Jesse worked his jaw, no words coming out despite it.   

“Jesse,” Hanzo started, looking around in lieu of having to face those shying browns. “What… are you doing here?”

‘Smooth, Hanzo. Very smooth.’

Jesse cleared his throat and shifted on his fins, looking all for the world like he wanted to be somewhere else. The thought made Hanzo frown and crease his brow; what had changed?

“Hey, darlin’.” He rolled his shoulders, still hiding his hands. Hanzo stayed in his spot. “Sorry I ain’t been ‘round, I’ve been busy an’ didn’t wanna spoil it.”

Hanzo quirked an eyebrow up, narrowing his eyes. “Spoil what?”

Jesse opened his mouth but quickly shut it and straightened up, a smile growing and sparking his eyes. Hanzo watched as he clapped his fins together and held out his arms, presenting a folded up… cloth?

Jesse nudged it into his arms, smirk forming in the quirk of his lips and beard. “Take a look, angelfish.”

Hanzo blinked at the nickname but set it aside for later discussion as he unraveled the fabric in his arms. He held it out in front of him and his jaw went slack at the sight he beheld.

A thick blanket of fur dropped out onto the ground, soft against his fingers, and woven into the outer coat were layers of shining feathers; black to grey to white to orange, blending in seamlessly with each other and the dark fur. Hanzo ran a hand down them, breath hitching at the silky texture and how his fingers sank into them, spreading warmth up his arm.

Hanzo broke away to stare at Jesse, feeling that warmth creep over his face but finding no room to care about it underneath the overwhelming tenderness threatening to make his heart swell out of his chest. He breathed carefully and swallowed.

“You made this…?”

Jesse chuckled and took off his hat to run his hand through his hair, the dry salt catching in the high sunlight and bringing back not-so-innocent thoughts of the mer’s taste. Hanzo didn’t banish it, knowing he was already red enough to be able to deny anything.

(He didn’t want to.)

“I know it’s a couple months late t’ give it to ya, but I still want you to have it, Han.” Jesse shuffled closer, pulling the shawl off the ground to press against Hanzo’s chest. “Try it on.”

Hanzo nodded, adjusted his hold and threw it around his shoulders, wrapping it tightly around himself. A wave of heat enveloped him, even as the April breeze turned his legs to ice, and he let out a long sigh as he closed his eyes. He brought it in closer, digging his hands into the softness and reveling in the rare comfort it brought him.

He smiled at Jesse, only a small thing not as sharp as his usual snark and wit, but it might as well have shined brighter than the sun if Jesse’s wide grin was anything to go by. He chittered again and whistled, making Hanzo laugh quietly.

“Thank you, Jesse. I love it.”

“Really?” Jesse lit up and Hanzo nodded, keeping his chuckles to himself.

He picked up his travel pack and locked his cabin door, watching Jesse all the while as he seemed to bounce and flash his teeth with little care to who saw. Hanzo headed off at a lackadaisical pace, smile still present.

“Walk with me to the docks?”

As they walked, one poised and the other cumbersome, Hanzo’s thoughts drifted off as he allowed himself this joy of being with someone like Jesse. Someone with qualities he hadn’t the courage to name or admit he admired yet.

He should get him a gift as well…