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trrickytickle · 1 year ago

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OVERWATCH- tickle headcanons and thoughts!

This was requested by one certain @somethingticklish! His blog is NSFW (like, extremely though) so proceed w caution hehehhahaahhah. ANYWAYS IT'S OVERWATCHING TIME!!! throwback to when I would play with my friends hahahshss.

Anyways, there's so much tickle potential in this franchise bro. YAYYYYY OVERWATCHHHH

Sombra/Olivia Colomar

-Sombra is an absolutely ruthless ler!!! Her personality and penchant for hacking and scheming make this the TRUTH- she's so freaking mean like look at her gyuys.

-As a ler, Sombra utilizes her fast typing fingers... woof, those gloves. THOSE GLOVES MAN OH MY FUCKING GOD. She relishes in her lee's laughter, and will often cackle alongside them. When teasing, she always makes cheeky comments, whether it be snide remarks about "hacking into their system" or remarking things about their reactions and her observations around them. Def cracks her knuckles, wiggles her fingers etc in preparation to tickle others.

-Her favorite lees are the ones that are hard to crack. Tough guys (....REAPER HAHHAHAHGDVHGSVHJVSJ) who show stoicism, people with an impenetrable attitude (rhymes with creeper) and Reaper. I need to stop getting carried away with this lee Reaper agenda.

-As a kid, she wasn't tickled often due to her upbringing. Her addiction to hacking made her a sort of recluse- and her manipulative personality made it hard to approach people. You'd be surprised to find that she's ticklish at all. When tickled, she has a deep, loud laugh, and she will thrash and squirm away from her lee VEHEMENTLY. She absolutely hates being tickled, but is a menace, ranging from a little troll to an absolute actual sadist when tickling others.

Cole Cassidy

-A huge switch. Uses his Southern drawl to tease and taunt his lers, and his experience with sharp-shooting to persicely tickle.

-However, there's only a select few lees he tickles, and one of those is Ashe- their tickle fights are legendary.

-He's an adorable lee, with a hearty but giggly laugh, and many reactions, will verbally protest a lot.

-BEARD TICKLES would be legendary holy shit. When teasing uses those like, southernisms like "puddin'" and like... ler Cassidy man he'd be so much fun!!

Genji Shimada

(shout-out to my real life friend who's an absolute FOOL for the cyborg- you know who you are!)

-After his reconstruction, he's only ticklish in some places- but his cyborg technology allowed for some weaknesses to be exposed.

-During his robotization, Mercy had accidentally tickled him a few times.

-Teases in Japanese as a ler- and as a lee, will express his displeasure and react to tickling in the language.

-Kiriko and Hanzo know where he's most ticklish, and Kiriko tended to take advantage of the fact while they were training. The only person with this knowledge (to a lesser extent) as well is Mercy. She's so ler for him dude.

-Not ticklish in the traditional sense. Only some things tickle him, like repairs (from Mercyyyyy) and tickling on his non-weaponized parts.

-Tickles to flirt with girls and teases them in a mischievous and bantering way. (In his player eraaa)

-His exposed armpit in the Blackwatch skin is giving me thoughts.

D.VA/Hana Song

-She is a bubbly lee. Curls up to avoid attacks, has a giggle-snort laugh and is overall a super cutie, and a typical tickle target.

-However, she is a very stubborn ler. She is super headstrong when it comes to tickling and tries to show no mercy. Teases like "Give up yet?" and uses traditional baby-talk.

-Dae-hyun and her have tickled each other at some point and she has lots of fun as a ler with her childhood friend- and in general, oh my god She loves to be a ler. Like, absolutely.

-Def teases Lucio a lot as a ler oh my god will beatbox while she uses his tummy as a turntable and all that jazz and make references to his music. Also a bratty adorable lee for him (he keeps making corny ahh gaming references in return).

-Kicks her legs around as a lee absolutely. Wears cute socks (like with strawberries and paw prints and the like) which makes this 110 percent more adorbs.

Lúcio Correia dos Santos

-He's so ticklish. When fans ask about it, he answers honestly and exactly. But when he's tickled, he actively tries to suppress his reactions and jump away. Squeals when startled.

-MY LORD TICKLISH ARMPITS

-When tracing around his tattoo, he'll do a high pitched little hihihi omg.

-Very fun ler. Loves to tickle and laughs along with his lee dude. Also a DJ... experienced hands means good tickler (I could say this 283883 more times in the hc sheet but it's so basic at this point)

Mei Ling Zhou

-Giggly as fuck, curls up holy shit. Will admit to accidentally being tickled. Laughter is very much a "hee-hee" lmao.

Mercy/Angela Ziegler

-Mercy has an adorable tickle laugh. It's that happy, light giggle that makes you just wanna keep tickling... it's healing. HAHAHAHHAHAHA

-Ticklish bellybutton. And neck. And armpits. And sides. Everywhere - but these are her worst areas.

-Accidentally tickles people when healing them thoroughly lmao. One of the only people to know where Genji is ticklish - sometimes they like to tickle each other bc I said so.

-Ler in medical situations but barely. Like accidentally grazing a cut and whatnot.

-Lee as fuck otherwise. Thrashes around so much when tickled hard.

Zarya/Aleksandra Zaryanova

-You know my favorite thing ever is a tough muscle girl who can't handle delicate touch. Well, no you don't, I just told you.

-A hearty, loud laugh. And ticklish armpits. They're exposed. And neck. And abs. Very loud laugher, and tough as well. Won't be broken under tickling, unless with those she trusts well.

//image limit :( //

Moira O'Deorain 👾

-First of all, claws. Second of all, attitude. Third of all, claws again. In conclusion, LER.

-Tickles... for SCIENCE. When experimenting on others, tickle torture was not out of the question. Knows her way around different crevices of her body, and is cold and ruthless when exploiting this weakness.

-Tickle interrogation scenarios with her though... ough

-I think if this goes on I can't post it

Kiriko Kamori 🦊

-Like her character, there are two sides to her when it comes to tickling lmao

-As a lee, she's laid back and takes it. As a ler, she's dangerous.

-Uses her Miko gift of powers and teleportation to her advantage in tickle battles with loved ones hehehe. When she was living with Genji, they tickled each other. SO. MUCH. UAUAUAUAUAU

-The castle was perfect for chasing each other around. Kiriko would probably be dissapointed that she can't really tickle him anymore though.

Reaper/Gabriel Reyes 💀

Reaper is so fineeeee I mean what I mean he's so... Anyways.... Whaaaat?

-Reaper's reputation makes him someone you wouldn't exactly want to tickle. The royal you- but that honestly doesn't include me. Tee hee hee. There's my instinct again, telling me that his bad tickle spot is his waist/sides.

-If he isn't kicking his ler in the face, he'll teleport away from them or go all Wraith form and avoid him using these smoke-and-mirrorsy attacks.

-During their time at Talon, Sombra enjoyed sabotaging (his words) their missions by teasing him with the notion that he's ticklish. She's his most frequent 'ler- he doesn't get tickled much, but she relishes in his surprising ticklishness- greatly.

-Doesn't ler- it's above him- unless provoked enough. Super ruthless.

Elizabeth Caledonia "Calamity" Ashe 🔫

-Ashe. Is. A. SWITCH.

-When he hadn't gained sentience, Ashe used to ask BOB to tickle her as a kid and he would comply- or try to. It's hard having clunky, mechanical hands, but he was doting and gave in. She'd laugh but fake it- it was all in good fun.

-Ashe and Cassidy both share an affinity for provoking each other with tickling. Their tickle fights are rough, scrappy and full of banter, and they absolutely love to expose each other and bicker during these occasional moments.

-She has a mean streak when it comes to tickling. Tickles her fellow Overwatch agents sometimes, and revels in it.

-Among the Deadlock Gang, tickle fights between Ashe and Cassidy would rage on- not EVERY DAY frequent, but the weakness was there to exploit.

-BOB will hold down Ashe's victims at her request.

-Very casual in her teasing and tactics but will always point out bad spots. Her skills in tickling aren't really skills. She just goes fast and is good at taunting.

#tickling #tickle community #t-word #tfb community #tickle fic #tickle #tword #lee #ler

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

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A Break- Chapter 5

Oh lord this took too long and ‘bout killed me. I hope my edits are good!

It’s a biggen so it’s all under the cut!

Hope y’all like it! I know it was long over do :/

He dreams of dragons. A swirling blur of purples, reds, and yellows. His mindscape was a rich profusion of colors. Two become sharper standing out in the sea of hues. His father’s dragon emerges from the mass. The great black dragon floats ethereally around him, judging him. But, unlike the years spent under his father's tutelage, all he got were stern looks and cold words of praise. Now, he can feel a warm sense of- pride. Was his father finally proud of him? How? Of what? Next to him, another dragon appears. His mother’s dragon wove around the long form of his father. Black and pearly pink twisting and revolve hypnotically around his body. They radiated peace, and rest. An urge to join them began to overwhelm him. A break sounded nice. He deserved one, didn’t he?

When was the last time he had felt this at peace? There were a few times perhaps in recent memories. A blurry face comes to mind. A sweet smile and a laugh that is so warm and bright. He remembers the feel of soft fingers scratching along his goatee. He felt at peace then, safe and loved. It gives him pause- the urge to slip away waning. His paternal dragon stops its coiling, eyes locking with his partner. He pulls backs, separating from his mate. His mother’s dragon chirps, drifting closer and closer, she tries to touch her son. Her whiskers mere inches from his floating hand. Obsidian claws stop her from touching her eldest. His father’s dragon huffs once in warning, shaking its great head. His mother snaps at the claw, stubborn in her convictions. She wanted her son back, safe within her clutches in the afterlife. Had he not gone through enough? From the clan to his own penances? She had been so close to getting her youngest back years ago. Yet she had been robbed then too.

She wouldn’t be denied twice.

Hanzo watches helplessly as the two beasts argue in a language he does not know. He is torn between a want to be here with them, and the warm thoughts trickling slowly back into his mind. The pearlescent dragon rears back with a cry of anguish, nostrils flaring at whatever the black dragon had said. She makes eye contact with him once more. The dragon’s eyes were the same color as his mother's before she turned from him leaving his line of sight. His father gave him one last look filled with, pride? Before disappearing too. He shouts for them, crying out for his mother. To not be left alone again. But they were silent in the void. Not even in death was he good enough.

He floats again, or lays? He truly cannot tell what axis or plane he was on. But he could still feel. He felt cold and so so tired. Where were his dragons? If his parents were here surely his dragons must be too. He calls for them, but he gets no answer. The seal on his arm was horribly quiet.

He can do nothing but drift now.

He hears things sometimes, a soft sweet voice reading to him. Other times it’s a smooth accented voice walking him through something they were about to do. Hallucinations or reality he couldn’t tell. They get stronger though. Soon he begins to feel a warmth on his face. Like he was basking in the heat of the summer sun. Other times it’s the brush of something cool and wet on his neck and arms. The fingers were too smooth to be human but dexterous like them. They were humming, the tinny and augmented drone familiar. Hanzo knew that melody, he knew that voice, but he just couldn’t place it. Hanzo listens for a while, floating on the melody before it too disappears. They leave him, only an incisive beeping echoing in his head for company.

His dragons come to him after what felt like an eternity. Akuma approaches first, his massive body colliding with Hanzo’s. The archer clings to the great beast burying his face into the fur. Hanzo cares little for the claws puncturing his skin and scratching him as Akuma clicks and coos in delight. Ibuki wraps herself around them both, quiet but vibrating with relief. Hanzo opens his mouth to speak. His throat clicks, dry and inflamed. Something is choking him.

No-rest. We will get you out soon. Out? He stiffens in their warm embrace. He didn't want out. It was nice here, quiet. He didn't feel pain or much of anything in here. He could stay like this... No. Akuma nips his cheek in aggravation. Family, they need you. She needs you-

It comes back to him hard and fast. His last kiss with you before leaving for the terminal. The video before bed. Him whispering goodnight to your sleeping face ending the call before turning in himself. To the security breach and his fight. He needs to get back. If his parents left him here then he should wake up. Why wasn't he waking up? We will protect. His dragons nuzzle him once more before they push away returning to the great beyond, promising to take care of you while he gets stronger. Their determination fuels him to fight, to survive.

He trains his mind to pick up on the noises and touches happening around him while he waits. He picks up the tick of a clock and the sound of waves by his side. Their constant background noise soothing and grounding. Genji comes daily to hum and chat in their native tongue. He spoke of idle, sweet little things. The weather, who was on kitchen duty that evening, the training schedule. He sounded so hopeful every time he visited. Like his big brother was going to wake up at any moment and respond. After Genji came Mei and Ana. The two mostly acted like he was with them and discussed whatever book they were reading while waiting on him. They would come in the evenings and read passages aloud for him. It was a welcomed break from the monotony of silence. Ana came more often than Mei. He could smell the tea she would bring in when she sat by his side reading aloud in Arabic. Ah- her favorite book of poetry. She never translated this book for him, but between her cadences and phrasing, she wove the beauty of the verses nonetheless.

Ana was interrupted today though. Midway through a verse, she stopped. Her tongue stumbling over itself uncharacteristically. Hanzo felt her shift and rise without another word. He recognized Baptiste and Angela's voices talking to her, their voices low and hurried. He hears Ana laugh gently and the door to his room snaps shut. His doctors bustle around him for a moment though he senses another person in the room with them. Odd- unless his brother came back. No, much too quiet to be him. Angie and Baptiste leave quickly, their check-up done, leaving him alone with the new visitor.

"Hey, Hanz." A soft voice brushes his cheek. "How are you today?" Hanzo’s heart hurts. How did- when did you come here. He wanted to be angry, to yell at you for coming to such a dangerous place. He wanted to hunt down whoever found you and throttle them. This was putting you in harm’s way. Yet, at the same time, he wished he could see you. He wished he could tell you how much he missed you and that he was there. Instead, floats in his own subconscious. “I-Angie says that you might hear me. Something about your brain scans?” You squeeze his hand with a light chuckle. You trail off distracting yourself by rubbing soothing patterns in his palm. “If-if you can, know that I know. Not everything, your brother has been so kind to me.” You squeeze his hand, bordering on almost uncomfortable. “But I need to hear the things he said from you. So-so get better soon, please? I miss you.” Now more than ever he wishes he could comfort you. Why hadn't he just swallowed his pride early? This could have been avoided. He hoped at least.

The rest of your visit passes too quickly for his liking. The scant bit of privacy he had with you was filled with your tender voice and gentle touches. He felt your fingers brush along his smooth jaw, stroking it like you did whenever you would lounge in bed sweaty but happy after a lengthy reunion. The kisses you placed on his brow were just as sweet too. You only left after one of the doctors came in to force you out to get dinner and stretch.

You poke at the warm meal Ana had plated for you in the mess hall. The steaming rice and tomato covered lentils sitting comfortably in your stomach. “Eat, dear. Then I think it’s best if you take a nap. When was the last time you slept horizontally?” Ana winks at you over her shoulder stirring a pot filled with browning onions and spices. The elderly medic had lost count of the number of times she had walked in on you sleeping in the chairs in the medical wing.

“I’m fine-really.” You smile rubbing at your sore neck. The hospital chairs here were soft, sure, but not meant for daily sleeping. Ana snorts but doesn’t say anything more on the matter. Instead, she distracts your haggard mind with recipes and tea ideas, sprinkling in little stores of her childhood. You find yourself relaxing more and more; the time between when you wanted to get back to Hanzo’s side and since you sat down for dinner growing longer and longer in between. You yawn widely, failing to cover it with your mouth with your hand. “Shit- sorry.” You flush. The other woman waves it off.

“It’s fine sweetheart. Just means my food and company did its job.” She smiles collecting both of your dishes to place them in the sink. “Come-let me escort you to your room.”

“You really aren’t going to let me go back huh?”

“Not a chance child. He isn’t going anywhere trust me.” She grips the back of your shirt to lead you in the opposite direction of the ICU. You scowl but follow along, dragging your feet along a little in the process.

You had been offered Hanzo’s room when you landed last week. It had been untouched since he had been transferred to the Ilios base. But you couldn’t, it felt almost rude to. He hadn’t consented to any of this. It just felt wrong. His room was what you had always imagined. Clean and tidy, the few items he had well loved and maintained. Some looked pricy, but most were homey little things that must have reminded him of Japan. You ask to stay in a vacant room but still find yourself in his room from time to time, dusting his heavy bookshelf or to vacuum his rug and shake the linens out. You only broke down once in his room, but it was enough for you to never want to go back in there. Not until Hanzo was back living in it. While mopping one day you stumbled across a little box, it was your box, the old thing was filled with letters. The creases in the paper thin and tearing from constantly being opened and reread over and over again. The trinkets you had sent him over the years were worn, but clean. The metal pins and coins shiny and discolored from fingers rubbing them lovingly. You put the box back where you found it and leave. Athena could clean from now on.

Genji and Angie had discussed a lot with you since you took up residence. You were grateful for their updates and check-ins. Baptiste even gave you some reading about what to expect when Hanzo is up and going through physical therapy. He emphasized that the longer he was in the ICU the longer recovery could be. “But don’t stress,” He pats your hand warmly. “That man is as stubborn as an Ox. He’ll bounce back in no time!”

You hope so. From the bits Genji told you after they found him...it had been- disparaging. The road had been rocky, though they wouldn’t disclose all the details to you. The first few weeks were touch and go before Angie finally could sign off on putting him under medically. She spoke as simply as she could but it was still a lot for you. But she was certain he would pull through, and that as soon as he could breathe on his own again she would begin the process of waking him up.

How long that would take no one knew.

You met quite a few interesting characters while you sat vigil by his bedside. Mei is a riot. The plucky young scientist is a delightful conversationalist and had many stories about Hanzo. When she talked about him you could immediately understand why they were friends. Both mathematically minded and sentimental to a fault.

Satya was more pensive when she visited at first, but warmed up to you gradually over talks of your business. Her eyes lit up when you told her your struggles with tin designs. “Let me design some for you. Your tins are wonderfully shaped, but ultimately boring.” She looks down at Hanzo’s resting form. She strokes his head lightly. The stubble growing on his crown had been recently washed. Baptist came in earlier to remove the stitches around his temporal lobe. “I’ll send you some designs tonight.” She nods curtly before leaving you alone again. Over the next few weeks, you gradually met the rest of the agents. Whether it be them coming to say hello and check up on their comrade or in the kitchen, welcoming you to a warm meal, and thousands of questions about how you met.

It wasn’t until the second month of your stay did you meet Hanzo’s dragons. It was late, later than any of the medical staff would advise you to stay up. But, you could only stay away from work for so long and it was finally quiet. You were working by Hanzo’s side, the beeping of his monitor lulling you into a trance while you read over your spreadsheets. At first, you didn’t notice, the rhythmic beeping of his machinery was white noise to you at this point. The first few hitches you missed, too preoccupied with moving numbers and shipments around. The skips steadily grew faster and more erratic, it pulls your focus from your screen. “Hanzo?” You toss your laptop to the side, ready to buzz for help. He doesn’t move, not even a flicker behind his eyelids. Nothing was out of place until you touched him. His arm is warm underneath your fingers. Too warm, near scorching. You yelp in pain falling back at a sudden blinding light that erupts from his tattoo. The room fills with a blaze of blue and gold, the energy of the blast knocks you to the floor. You scream as two massive dragons irrupt from him. They swirl around the tiny space, scleraless eyes scan the room for something.

That something just happened to be you. Two sets of eyes lock with yours. Large fanged jaws open wide, hackles raised. You sit frozen in awe and terror. Were they going to kill you? No-surely not. Genji said they would recognize you-hypothetically. They were an extension of their master's souls. The two lunge for you, three-clawed feet open wide like birds of prey. Squeezing your eyes shut you wait for the impact of scales and teeth.

Two small projectiles collide with you. The force of which knocks the air from you. “Oph!” You wheeze arms wrapping instinctively around the squirming warm creatures clinging to your chest. Two thin dry tongues flick out and tickle your jaw and cheeks.

“I heard a scream! Are you-” Genji burst in looking about frantically, his wakizashi drawn and at the ready. Angie and Baptist barge in behind him, both armed as well. “Oh.” Genji gasps, his sword drops limply to his side. “Aniki.” You look up from your prone position, still dazed and confused by the now tiny blue dragons nestled on your stomach.

“Are you alright?” Genji asks, helping you up back to your feet and righting your upturned chair. His eyes never leave the two spirits in your hands. You nod meekly. “Come, let’s give them room to work.” He takes one last look at his brother and the doctors before leading you out with him. “What happened?” He asks in the hallway eyeing the two blue dragons now wrapped around your upper body. He punches in the code for his room and lets you in.

“I-I don’t know.” The larger of the two dragons chirps as it loses its grip on your sweater. You scoop it up to nuzzle your neck like you would an infant. It coos, wrapping its fluffy tail around your wrist. The slimmer smaller one squawks indignantly, jealous of its partner's attention. It too nuzzles at your neck, draping itself around you like a scarf. “One minute I was balancing my checkbooks, and the next I heard the heart monitor going crazy. Then these two jump me.” You glanze up at Genji. He looks so hopeful. A small sigh of relief escapes him. “Is this good?”

Genji sighs heavily and flops onto his bed. He rubs at the synthetic skin of his chin thoughtfully. He points at the two dragons. “Look at how translucent they are. It takes a lot of energy to summon them to our realm.” You clutch at the squirming reptiles taking a good look at them. The two look at you with large innocent eyes. What he said was true. You could see your hands through their bodies. Their scales were dull and lacked the luster of Genji’s dragon. The larger one’s left antler was chipped and flaking onto the floor. The smaller one was very thin and hollow looking. Genji sighs looking miffed. “My best bet is they told Hanzo you're here and he sent them out to look after you. Which is sweet, but foolish. Summoning when we are mentally or physically weak could kill us if we are not careful.” He drags his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“What happens now?”

He shrugs. “I can’t say. It’s up to him now. But, I believe this is a good sign.” Genji reaches out and scratches behind one of the dragon's ears. “Thank you for coming out to us.” He speaks directly to the dragons, bowing his head low in respect. They preen, clicking and cooing in delight. Genji’s little dragon appears shortly after jumping into the fray of blue and gold. You sit in the cyborg’s cozy room watching Hanzo’s dragons play. For the first time in ages your chest cliches with something other than fear.

It takes another 3 weeks for Hanzo to open his eyes. Of course, he had to do it the one night you decided to sleep in a bed. Your back had been pleading for days for a normal night's rest. It felt like your head had barely hit your pillow before his two dragons woke you. Tiny claws kneading your stomach and chest. They were solid and heavy. Their scales are bright and iridescent. The larger one, Akuma bumps your face hard with his antlers. Huge, arching healthy antlers. He trills at you expectantly.

Genji beats you to the medical ward by seconds. His exhaust vents pumping steam out like a geyser. He speaks quickly, his words fast and agitated. He switches languages rapidly, getting more and more agitated at the blank look the assistant barring the door gives him. He is getting flustered and quickly. His green lights blazed brighter and brighter with agitated arm gestures.

“Genji-Genji!” You rest a gentle hand on his cold shoulder. He rounds on you blindly, eyes electric. The hairs on your arm begins to rise as his dragon begins to awaken just under the surface. His temper cools when he recognizes just who was trying to calm him. You glance over to the trembling medical assistant. “Come- we’ve waited this long. They will get us when it’s safe to.” You assure your friend. Genji nods jerkily, taking your offered hand. He follows you down the hall back to his room. You were both tense and vibrating with nervous energy.

You lead Genji to his room, much like he did weeks ago. Punching in his room code you collapse onto the mountain of pillows he had on the floor for a chair the moment the door closed. You hug his pillows close, trying to quell the butterflies in your stomach “He’s up.” Genji spoke in awe. You crane your neck to look as Genji paces around you. His tone was tight but hopeful. “He’s up- He’s ok.” He smiles down at you, his face the brightest you had ever seen it. He wipes at his eyes and exhales a curse of joy. Dropping down next to you, he sits cross-legged by your side.

“Yes-” It was all you could manage to say. You squeeze his knee in reassurance, your own eyes prickling around the corners. Hot tears threatening to overflow. You didn’t want to admit it to him, to anyone, but you had started to lose hope. How many times had you sat there painstakingly etching each and every angle and blemish on Hanzo’s unconscious face into your memory, just in case it was to be your last time with him? How many nights had you held your breath, eyes locked with the complex monitors and pumps looking for something, hitch in his breath, or a twitch of a finger. Something to tell you he was still there. A wave of guilt washes over you just thinking of how he had woken up alone, how you weren’t there for him.

It’s not like he knew you were here, but it hurt your heart regardless. Doubt hits you. Would he even want you here? He clearly had no intentions of telling about this part of him. He had his crew to support him, and his brother here. “What are you going to say?” Genji asks gently. You feel his warm human hand land on top of yours giving you a comforting squeeze.

“What are you planning to say?” You parrot.

Genji thinks on it for a second, biting the synthetic skin of his lower lip. “Ugh- that’s why I asked you first! I don’t know if I want to punch him for making us all worry, or hug him.”

“I wish I had an answer too.” You confess. “I don’t even know if I should go see him.”

“What!” Genji gasps. “You have to! He’ll be so happy to see you.”

“Genji,” You roll on to your side. “I’m not even supposed to be here.” You nestle into the multicolored pillows rubbing at your eyes wearily. “Maybe it would be best if I went back home. Give him some space to recover. Give whatever this is time.” Your conversation partner goes quiet. His dark eyes, so expressive like his brothers bore into you. It wasn’t judgment. Nothing of the sort. It was understanding and flickers of sympathy.

“Do you want to leave?” He asks. No. Deep down you didn’t, but the high of hearing Hanzo's condition was slowly being replaced with the reality of the situation. The reality of what now? You shrug hiding your face in your arms too ashamed to admit. He lets you stew for a moment. “My brother-” He starts slowly. “My brother is many things, he is prideful and arrogant. Sometimes to the point of being unbearable to deal with. He can be as immovable as a mountain, as you might say bullheaded. ” Genji chuckles. “But, he is incredibly patient, I never noticed it as a child…but now, it’s a trait I envy.” He rubs at his eyes thinking back to the box he found in his brother’s room, the hidden pictures of you and him. He had never seen his brother so relaxed before. He would do anything to keep seeing that smile on his brother’s face. “I guess what I’m trying to say is,” Genji continues. “ just please try to see him once? If you're able to talk to him, do. I can tell you’re special to him, he will do what it takes to make this work.”

You bob your head in understanding, working to swallow around the lump growing in your throat. “I’m scared.” You admit timidly. Genji gives you a gentle pat on the leg.

“It is a scary situation, but trust me when I say you have nothing to fear from Hanzo.”

Genji leaves you at that, you both decided that when they were given that all clear to see Hanzo he should go first. He tries to object, but it was merely a formality. You could see how desperate he was to go. You spend your time waiting in his room, with his dragon Mizuki and her siblings. They could tell you were in distress and tried their hardest to comfort you. Their warm bodies blanket yours, their purring helping drift you off to sleep.

A sharp knock wakes you and your three dragons. They all perk up, ears all twitching towards the door. Akuma growls low in his throat. You open the door to Angie. She beams at you, hand hovering mid-knock. “Ah good! Sorry if you were resting.Hanzo was asking for you.” She steps back to let you out. Mizuki yips shrilly and leaps at the doctor. She catches them gracefully and strokes their head. “You can visit briefly. I am still monitoring him.”

“Right- thank you Angie.” You turn to go.

Angie stops you with a firm hand on your shoulders. “His larynx and trachea are still healing. Talking on his end is strictly forbidden, understand?” You nod. “I’m keeping him for observation for the next week- you are welcome to visit whenever he is feeling up to it.” With that she gives your shoulders a firm clap and lets you go. You walk slowly to the medbay, Hanzo’s dragons quiet and contemplative on your shoulders. For all your anxiety your mind was completely blank. Where would you even start? Knocking softly on the door to Hanzo's private room you enter.

The sigh of relief that escapes is loud in the open space. He turns to watch you from his inclined position on his hospital bed. He looks better. The tubes and wires helping him breathe and heal had been condensed down to just a heart monitor, IV drip, and oxygen. You take in the muted colors of healing bruises on his face and chest. He hardly looked like himself though. His face was clean shaven from surgery and his hair buzz cut short. It wasn’t him, but it didn’t matter. The fire was still there behind his dark eyes. They still screamed strength and perseverance. It was the same look that had attracted you from the start.

Hanzo regards you heavily, his expression gives nothing away as you come to sit by him. His fiery eyes flicker for a moment when he notices the unshed tears threatening to spill down your cheeks. He opens his mouth to speak and winces. Each breath felt like fire in his lungs. Hanzo rubs at his bandaged neck in agony. “You know you’re not allowed to talk.” You chastise him rushing up to grab his water and straw. He waves it away with a frown and sinks back into the thin pillows of his bed. You sit back down, playing with the metal straw between your fingers. “We have a lot to talk about huh?” You ask to break the silence. Hanzo huffs at the understatement of the century. He rubs his sweaty palms across the sheets covering the stumps of his legs. You watch him, he always rubbed at his knees when he was nervous. You reached for his hand not filled with wires and tubes, but stopped. Hanzo grabs your hand before you could pull it back. His large hand covering yours, he was so warm and safe. “I’m sorry.” You can feel yourself falling apart at the seams. A mix of relief and anxiety creating an indescribable feeling in you.

Damn, what were you even apologizing for? Knowing his secret? Learning about the Shimada clan without his consent, especially since he made it clear he had no intentions of telling you himself. Genji hadn’t told you everything, but it was enough to add fuel to the fire of nightly rants with his dragons. You wipe at your face hating how hot your skin felt with tears. Hanzo tugs at your hand to get your attention. “Wha-” He grunts pointing to the side table by the door and mimes writing on his palm. His com and phone sat innocently alongside his gold ribbon and a few get-well cards and dried flowers, all gifted to him by the team. He takes the phone from you eagerly and opens up to his notes app. He writes out something quickly and trusts it at you without hesitation.

I love you, I’m sorry

What little resolve you had left breaks at his admission. You pepper his waxy skin with tear streaked kisses “I love you too- truly.” You whisper into the bandages on his skull. The strong smell of antiseptics not deterring you in the least bit. He catches a stray kiss and turns back to his screen with vigor.

I know I have much to explain, secrets that I’ve held for too long and for no reason. You were never at fault for any of this, I trust you implicitly I have for a while.

Hanzo swallows thickly, thumbs hovering over the keyboard while you read in silence.

I know I have damaged what trust you must have had in me. If this is too much, if you deem this unsalvageable… I cannot blame- I would never blame you for wanting to step back. If you desire a clean break.

“Hanzo-” He wouldn’t-

But, if you are willing to give me a chance- I will give you everything. If you are willing to wait…

He looks to you waiting. You would either stay or leave, it was up to you. You read and reread his words, both of you trying to ignore the uptick on his heart monitor. You click the phone off and put it on the windowsill. Breathing deeply you stare blindly out the window. You don’t answer with words. Truthfully you think you had any that would express what you felt in that moment. Instead, you take his hand in both of yours. You kiss along his knuckles, brushing your lips along each scar you see, both old and new alike. You knew them all by heart. They had been a calendar of sorts, the mending of torn skin and removal of stitches, your anchor. They were what kept you going on the hardest nights, they kept you knowing that the wait was worth it. You couldn’t think of stopping now, fear be damned. “I’ll be here as long as you need.”

The smile that graces his face was well worth the wait.

#Overwatch #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo shimada #f!reader

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nitewrighter · 4 years ago

Note

Make the AU, Nitey

Just for the record, this is @azaeleia ’s fault because I really like this art and I’ve pondered how a Gakuen AU might look for a while.

----

The thrum of cicadas whirred from the trees that marked the edge of campus, their sounds seemingly gaining momentum over the open air of the track and the green. Overwatch Academy was a stately boarding school with a sleek modern architecture that seemed to have echoes of old Georgian dignity. Genji slumped against the stucco wall of the gymnasium, smacking his lips to try and get the blood from his teeth. He wiped the back of his hand across his nose and mouth and huffed at the streak of red that marked the back of it, sticky in the kicked-up dust and grunted with some disgust. The blaze of furious adrenaline was fading and the bruises were setting in. He just needed a few seconds before getting up, that was all. He glanced down at his uniform and sighed--it was covered in dirt and grass stains from the tussle, and a few specks of blood from his nose and lips.. What a mess... he wouldn’t hear the end of it from Hanzo.

Classes for the day had let out nearly two hours ago, and now were the few hours devoted to intramural activities such as sports and arts and other programs before the students were called in for dinner in the dining hall and sent to their dorms for the evening.

Or in Genji’s assailants’ case, wander off to the areas of the campus that were too far-flung to be monitored and unintentionally re-enact Lord of the Flies. They were bullying Zen (again), and Genji intervened. He wasn’t sure if he could really say his intentions were purely noble, rushing to defend Zen, as he often found himself in fights by virtue of his own mouth--but he figured he was a lot more used to fights than Zen, and thus here he was, dirty, bruised, and feeling more stupid than heroic.

“Genji!” A pair of scuffed saddle shoes skidded to a dusty halt in front of him and Genji glanced up to see a familiar skinny figure in a blouse and the blue pleated skirt of their uniform. Angela Ziegler carried herself stiffly, and sometimes you could make out the faint lines of her back brace through her blouse. She buckled over rigidly, like a doll, with her hands on her knobby knees to catch her breath.

“Class rep...?” said Genji, squinting to make eye-contact with her. Angela Ziegler was a bit of an odd duck among their peers, one of those kids who acted like a mini-adult while not being aware they acted like a mini-adult. She was a favorite of Professor de Kuiper, elected to the position of Class Rep not because she was popular, but because she was universally recognized as a busybody who would probably push her way to the position anyway to see that things got done. As she pulled herself back up to an upright postion, head eclipsed the sun but was still blinding in its blondness. “But,” Genji eked out the words, “How did you--?”

Angela looked back over her shoulder and Genji made out another kid, bronzey-tan, shorter and even skinnier than Angela with a close-shaved head, sage, heavy-lidded eyes, and the remains of a surgically corrected harelip.

“Zen, I told you to go,” said Genji trying to push himself up to his feet, the stucco prickling the skin of his palms with the action.

“I did, and then I got help,” Zen answered mildly.

Genji shot him a dark look as Angela looked around, “Did you see where they went?”

“It’s fine,” Genji said, his voice half a growl, “They’re long gone by now.”

“Who was it?” said Angela.

Genji’s lips tightened.

“Genji,” Angela put her hands on her hips.

“Just Max and his goons again,” Genji said sullenly, “So crying to Professor de Kuiper isn’t going to do anything.” Max’s family were wealthy donors to the school. Kids like him tended to only get a slap on the wrist, come back to inflict more pain as a reaction to getting in trouble, all the while getting better at not getting caught.

“We wouldn’t be crying to him--” she started but then huffed and held out a hand to him, “Come on, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Genji took her hand and she and Zen helped him up to his feet. She blinked at a dirty, bloody abrasion on his arm and another on his hand from when he was shoved hard to the ground. “You can walk, right?”

“Of course I can walk,” said Genji, limping a little.

“This way,” said Angela, taking his non-injured arm and walking around the gym.

“I don’t want to go to the nurse,” muttered Genji.

“I have a first aid kit in my gym locker,” said Angela, “It’s closer.”

“Nerd,” the scoffing word came out of him on reflex.

“It’s coming in handy, isn’t it?” she said, arching an eyebrow at him. The three of them headed over to where the locker rooms of the Gym emptied lead out to the green. In the distance, the school soccer team thundered around the grass, their shouts and laughs mingling with the screech of cicadas.

Zen held down the button on a drinking fountain and Genji sloshed up water onto his face, feeling it go from lukewarm to shockingly cold as he washed and watching his own watered down blood splash pink against the white of the fountain’s basin. He got a mouthful of water and swished it around, trying to get the dirt and blood from his teeth.

“Got it!” Angela briskly walked out of the girl’s locker room just as Genji was spitting bloodied water into the drinking fountain’s basin, and he made eye contact with her. She had a neat little first aid kit in hand but her lips were pulled back from her teeth in a grimace at him spitting. Genji looked up at her from the fountain, face dripping, moving to wipe his mouth with the back of his hand again, but she reached into the breast pocket of her blouse and held out a cloth handkerchief to him. His brow crinkled as he gingerly took it from her, and he couldn’t keep eye contact with her as he padded at his face with the handkerchief. He looked from the handkerchief to her but she was already sitting down on the bench outside the locker room and rifling through the little first aid kit. Genji pressed the handkerchief to his mouth, then padded it around his dripping jawline and the wet margins of his face.

“Here, sit down,” said Angela, taking a small disinfectant wipe from the first aid kit and tearing it out of its wrapper.

Genji moved to sit but grunted in pain in the process at what was surely a wide bruise on his leg.

“You were limping earlier,” said Angela.

“Yeah.”

“Is the skin broken?” said Angela.

“I don’t think so,” said Genji.

“Zen, can you head to the science lab? Professor de Kuiper has an ice pack in his fridge. Just say it’s for one of the soccer players.”

“Mm-hmm,” Zen gave a short nod before jogging off.

“Why were they picking on him?” said Angela, wiping the disinfectant wipe across the bloody abrasion on Genji’s arm as Zen exited earshot. Genji drew in a sharp inhale through his nostrils as she wiped grains of gravel from the injury.

“‘Cuz he’s weird,” said Genji with a shrug.

“He’s not weird, he’s nice,” said Angela, in her mini-adult way.

“He’s nice in a weird way. I guess it makes other people think he thinks they’re better than him,” mumbled Genji.

“Well that’s just childish,” said Angela crisply.

“I mean, we are kids,” said Genji.

“That’s not an excuse!” said Angela.

“You’re a kid too, you know,” said Genji.

“Exactly! Like, it’s not hard to be nice!” Angela rubbed the disinfectant wipe a little too hard and Genji winced, “Sorry--! Sorry...”

Genji snorted a little.

“What?” said Angela.

“Nothing, I just...it’s kind of funny that you say that when you’re getting mad,” said Genji.

“I’m not getting mad!” Angela argued and then caught herself, “Oh--you--! You need to be more careful! You should have gotten an adult! When they were picking on Zen, you should have gotten a teacher! Not gone all.... fighting... guy! Who fights things!”

Genji rolled his eyes. “You’re class rep. You wouldn’t get it,” he muttered.

Her big blue eyes widened with insulted alarm. “What wouldn’t I get!?” she said.

“Well... you and Zen... the teachers like you,” said Genji.

“So?” said Angela.

“So they treat you better,” said Genji.

“So everyone has to treat Zen and me worse to make up for it?” said Angela, setting the disinfectant wipe aside.

“I don’t know,” sighed Genji, leaning against the painted brick of the locker room. He blinked a few times. “Do they treat you badly?” he said, glancing over at her.

“No... they don’t... treat me like anything,” said Angela, now taking a bandage and wrapping it around the abrasion, “...they...don’t talk to me unless they have to. Maybe if they forgot an assignment...” she trailed off and then caught herself, “I mean--I--I hang out with Mei! Sometimes... when she’s not with her tutors...”

Genji looked over at her, his brow crinkling. Her blond hair was shrouding one eye as she worked. She always seemed so smart and together that he had never really considered she could be lonely. Her eyes were fixed on his palm now, wiping another disinfecting wipe across its heel,

“Thanks,” he said quietly.

She glanced up.

“For uh... all this. I’ll clean up more at the dorms but... this helps. Are--are you going to tell...?”

“...not unless you and Zen get in trouble again,” said Angela, glancing off, “But--you should feel like you can go to the teachers for help! That’s--that’s what their job is...” she trailed off. She furrowed her brow. “And--and you can come to me, too. I’m the class rep, after all.” A small smile spread on her lips.

“Sure thing, class rep,” said Genji. A pause passed. “You know... on Thursdays, there’s like, a whole 3 hours between where the AV club leaves the media center, and the janitor comes in to kick you out, so sometimes McCree and I watch bad horror movies in there.”

“Bad horror movies?”

“Yeah! And you eat a bunch of junk food and make fun of them! It’s great!”

“...why wouldn’t you just watch good horror movies?”

Genji huffed. “You’re killing me, Rep.”

Angela blinked. “Wait--are--are you saying I can come? On Thursdays?”

“Yeah,” Genji shrugged.

The brief, heartbreakingly bright emotion that rippled across her face, the awe, made Genji’s stomach lurch. She quickly tried to regain her composure before focusing on unwrapping another bandage. “Yeah! Thursdays!” she tried to sound casual as she placed the bandage over the scrape on his hand, “Thursdays are--I like Thursdays.”

Genji smiled a little and she pushed her hair back from her eyes. She smoothed her thumb over the adhesive bandage she had put on the heel of his palm. There was a steadiness to the motion that caught his attention, how much care and warmth that tiny action seemed to hint toward.

“I’ve gotten the ice pack,” a calm voice piped up and both of them flinched to alertness. Angela quickly released his hand and they both looked up to see Zen calmly presenting a blue ice pack which Genji eagerly grabbed and put over the bruise on his leg with a sigh of relief. Angela blinked a few times and then quickly stood up.

“Well--um-- is-- does anything else hurt?” she said, holding her little first aid kit in a white-knuckled grip.

“Uh.. I... think I can handle it from here if you need to go,” said Genji.

“Yes--I just remembered I.... have... homework. So much homework. And I should do it. So I’ll... see you in class?”

“Yeah,” said Genji, “See you in class.

“Mm-hm,” she gave a quick nod and then quickly disappeared back into the locker room. Genji sighed and pressed his back against the wall behind the bench, before he noticed a small rag crumpled at his side.

“Hey--Rep, you forgot your--” Genji picked up the handkerchief and pushed up from the bench and grunted, pressing the ice pack to his leg as he became aware of his bruise again with his own movement, but then he looked at the handkerchief, now soddened with blood and dirt and water. What was he going to do? Call her back and have her take the filthy thing? He sighed and sank back onto the bench, holding the ice pack to his leg with one hand and the damp, dirty handkerchief in the other. He glanced back at Zen to see him smiling with such an irritating serenity that Genji wouldn’t be surprised if it were the sort of expression that got him into trouble with Max or his goons in the first place.

“What?” said Genji.

“Are you going to give it back to her?” said Zen.

“I dunno, it’s stupid. Who carries around cloth handkerchiefs? It’s gross. Look at it, it’s gross already.”

“...you could wash it and give it back,” Zen said with a shrug.

“Well of course I’m going to wash it before I give it back,” Genji huffed only to see Zen was beaming now. “Oh get over it.”

#gency

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nevaryadl · 4 years ago

Text

subcagecorp fluff inspo by this amazing piece by @crystalbeastsquidney cw: mentioned food

"Is that a... casual Kuai Liang?" Cassie asked, tipping her shades down.

"Depends... is that a casual Hanzo next to him and Mr. Cage?" Jacqui asked.

The kombat kids had gone out to their favorite food street for some sweets, drinks and eats and mill about a casual afternoon. It was while they were idly chatting away at an outdoor table of a sandwich place, that they spotted Kuai Liang, Hanzo and Johnny out and about.

Though, it had taken a moment to recognize the grandmasters, as they were wearing casual clothing of all things, something that was rare given how the two were almost always in gear or formal wear to keep up their professional grandmaster images. But, the group was absolutely still delighted to see the two relax, and even more happy to see the Earthrealm team's resident polycule out and about.

"Heeey daddio!" Cassie called.

Johnny snapped his head to the side at the sound of his daughter's voice, grinning when he saw the kombat kids and waving, before gesturing the to building that Hanzo, himself and Kuai Liang had stopped in front of before stepping inside with the grandmasters.

"Boba tea?" Jacqui asked, leaning in her chair to see the sign of the building.

"Oh yeah, got pops hooked on the stuff and then he went and got Hanzo and Kuai Liang hooked on it," Cassie grinned.

"You've made a monster," Jin snorted.

"Damn proud of it!"

A few moments later, the three men emerged from the building with their drinks, coming over to greet the group now that they knew the kombat kids were there.

"Hey kiddos!" Johnny grinned.

"Hey Mr. Cage, grandmasters, didn't know you guys knew this place," Takeda said.

"Yeah, who'd you think showed Cass this place?" Johnny grinned crookedly.

"Oh really now?" Jacqui laughed, giving Cassie a look and Cassie only sheepishly adjusting her shades.

"Still up to mischief, even on your off days," Kuai Liang loving teased, making Cassie shrug and the others laugh.

"What can I say, I got it from the best!"

"And I can't be prouder," Johnny laughed, "Alright, we got a date still. Paint the town red?"

"Every day, Mr. Cage," Jin said with a grin.

"That's my kiddos!"

"Don't actually paint the town red, especially you Takeda," Hanzo added as the three men moved to go about their date.

"Never’d dream of it!" Takeda laughed as the three went about their date.

#mk #Mortal Kombat #subcagecorp #Sub-Zero (Mortal Kombat)#Kuai Liang #Hanzo Hasashi #Scorpion (Mortal Kombat)#johnny cage #jacqui briggs #Cassie Cage #Takahashi Takeda #Kung Jin #fluff #cw: mentioned food #I'M STILL NOT OVER IT I'M STILL SOFT AND GAY

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kerfufflewatch · 5 years ago

Note

Candy/ pastries or your pain is mine

everyone asked for candy/pastries, and I wrote way too much, and I’m pretending that’s because everyone asked for it and not because I have no self-control

[on AO3]

"Kinda surprised you like sweet stuff that much," McCree remarks.

Hanzo only gives him the barest of glances before returning his attention to the doughnut box on the counter. McCree had found a proper doughnut shop while they were here in the States--one of those local places that was big enough to be noteworthy but small enough to still have product worth talking about--and brought back a solid half-dozen to the safehouse. It was, admittedly, entirely too much sugar even for two grown men, but it'd been a long and frankly boring mission and he thought they deserved something.

After a moment's deliberation, Hanzo liberates the box of its blueberry cake doughnut and sets it on a napkin that is already dusted with crumbs and flakes of glaze. "And why is that?" he asks as he sets to pouring a cup of coffee.

"Dunno. You're so fit. Figured you were one of those guys who counted every calorie and eats their body weight in protein every day."

Hanzo snorts softly at that. "The fact that I put some thought into my meal composition, unlike some people, does not make me obsessed."

"Mmhm."

Hanzo shoots him a glare that is more amused than annoyed, then returns to his coffee. "You are not too far off, I suppose," he says, slowly pouring milk into his cup until it reaches the precise color he deems acceptable. "When I was younger, I did maintain a much stricter diet--it was considered childish to indulge in something with no health benefits. After, it simply became one of those things that I did not need and did not permit myself."

"And now?"

"Now I have learned that denying myself cake will not restore my honor." His coffee spoon clinks sharply against the countertop.

"Nah. Not unless it was a real good cake." Hanzo laughs a little and, as always, it makes McCree's heart flutter and his mouth incapable of shutting up just in case he can get Hanzo to do it again. "What's your favorite, then?"

Hanzo has to think on that for a moment. Then he answers, "Taiyaki, I think. Although to be fair, I think it is mostly whatever I am in the mood for."

McCree hides his smile in his coffee cup. He really is too far gone to be helped. "Fair enough."

"What about you?"

McCree shrugs. "Never had that much of a sweet tooth, to be honest. I mean, yeah, here and there," he adds, gesturing vaguely at the doughnut box, "but . . . I guess I'd never turn down a slice of apple pie, though."

The corner of Hanzo's mouth lifts in something that might be amusement, though McCree's not sure why. "Really."

"Used to drive my mamá mad. She must've disowned me six or seven times for it, back in the day. Why not her flan, or sopapillas, or something else she had a family recipe for." McCree chuckles at the old memory, his mother sighing and putting her flour-dusted hands on her hips as her son continued to betray their proud Mexican heritage. "But yeah. That's the favorite, I think."

Hanzo laughs softly. "A troublemaker at every turn."

"That's me." McCree brushes past Hanzo to pour himself another cup of coffee. Going by the files Winston sent this morning, it’s looking like it might be a half-pot kind of day. “Gotta say, though, damn hard to find any decent apple pie out where we’re stationed. They got stuff like it around, I guess, but none of it’s quite right. Think the last time I had any was . . .”

He trails off. He’d been about to say it was probably the better part of a year and a half, but come to think of it, it’s probably been about a year. It wasn’t much, but he remembers now: serving himself a cup of burnt diner coffee and a slice of pie from the display case, sitting in a cracked vinyl seat with the best view of the railroad over the gorge, getting one bite in before having to abandon it. He’d barely appreciated it at the time with his attention focused elsewhere, but the taste of tart apple and sweet cinnamon had lingered on his tongue through the hell that followed, mixed with gunpowder and dust.

“McCree?”

McCree blinks out of his reverie. His sugar spoon still hovers over his coffee, teetering and threatening to spill. He hastily dumps the sugar and gives it a stir. “Sorry. Got a little distracted there,” he says, putting on an easy smile. “Was a bit of a rough day last time, is all.”

Hanzo seems unconvinced, but he knows when to let things drop. It’s one of the many things McCree appreciates about him.

They lapse into a companionable quiet. Hanzo breaks off a small piece of the doughnut and pops it into his mouth. He absentmindedly sucks a crumb off the pad of his thumb, and McCree forgets all about pointing out that he'd actually bought that particular doughnut for himself.

—

They're both sent back to the States again within the month, but on separate, minor missions. Hanzo goes off with his brother and Angela. McCree tries not to think about how irritable that makes him.

McCree's sent out on a solo mission for three weeks, investigating a business out in Canada Winston worries might have some Talon ties. It looks and acts like a standard accounting firm, and three weeks of running coffee and organizing files doesn’t give McCree any reason to believe otherwise. The tedium slowly grates on his nerves, and being treated like a witless errand boy does so more quickly, until he’s certain that he has none left carrying him through.

The whole thing is made worse by having to maintain radio silence the entire three weeks. He wasn't necessarily the sort to enjoy long text conversations or phone calls, but he could always count on a wry response from Angela or Genji if he sent them updates or complaints, and Lena and Mei sometimes just liked to check in. He gets none of this, though, and it leaves him far too much time to think.

And of course, because his heart's a goddamn fool, he finds himself missing Hanzo the most.

For a while, as one does once a crush starts to become a little bit desperate, McCree entertains the notion of telling Hanzo in a variety of ways. With how long they've known each other, just asking for a date seems too distant. Grand gestures are something, but anything too grand would just leave Hanzo embarrassed and irritable regardless of how he felt in return. He doesn't know when Hanzo's birthday is and asking Genji would mean any surprise would be ruined.

At some point, he remembers the conversation with Hanzo during their last mission, and he thinks for far too long about gifting Hanzo with some sort of sweet thing. Cakes and candies were romantic, weren't they? Except something generic would go over about as well as a snowball taking a lovely vacation in Hell, and Hanzo deserves better than some dime-a-dozen chocolates.

He dithers and sighs and eventually forgets about the whole thing after a week or so, and the conversation shortly thereafter. The whole idea is a fool's errand, anyway--it all assumes that Hanzo would want him at all.

Just before he can drive himself mad with hypotheticals, he digs up a handwritten set of budgets in someone's locked office desk that, even coded and vague, implicate the business in some illicit dealings quite nicely. He activates the little automatic drone that helpfully scans and uploads all of the pages straight to Athena and Winston, neatly replaces everything, and slips out of the city the moment he is given the all-clear.

By the time he gets back to Gibraltar, the combination of a shitty mission and an equally shitty flight has him too exhausted and irritable. He checks in with Winston, drags himself through the shower, and flops onto his bed. He’s too antsy for sleep, but he can at least use a few minutes with his eyes closed before he has to dodge the rest of the team to find food.

He only gets a couple of minutes before there is a knock on his door. He sighs up at the ceiling. “Just a sec.”

His irritation all but evaporates when he opens the door to find Hanzo on the other side. He has a paper bag in one arm, wafting the rich scent of food, and a bottle of whiskey in the other.

"Well damn," McCree says. "Rollin' out a hero's welcome."

Hanzo rolls his eyes, even as he smiles. "Hello to you, as well. I thought you might like to celebrate your success, but if not . . ."

McCree snorts. "Success. Yeah. We'll call it that."

His tone makes Hanzo's smile immediately drop in a way that makes McCree's stomach do the same.

"Was I mistaken?" Hanzo asks. "The mission brief suggested you were successful, but . . ."

McCree groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “No, you weren't. Sorry, Han," he says wearily. "Was just a long, frustrating sort of job. Bunch of annoying assholes, then me doing a whole lot of nothin’ to prove that they’re assholes. Got me in a bit of a mood, y’know?”

“Oh. I am sorry. Perhaps I should have considered--would you like me to go?”

His expression of mild concern might have fooled anyone else, but McCree knows better nowadays, and he sees the flash of disappointment as it crosses his face. "No, 'course not," he says. "Just warnin' you I might not be the best company."

Hanzo nods, but his brow is still pinched with uncertainty. McCree reaches to take the bag. "Got a couple glasses if you wanna pour us a drink," he says, nodding to the pair he keeps on his desk just for this purpose.

"I--yes."

McCree pauses as he lifts the first box out of the bag. "Seriously, what's buggin' you?"

"It is nothing."

It's clearly not nothing, but no amount of prying will get Hanzo to talk if he doesn't want to. He unpacks both their meals, but pauses when he finds a third box at the bottom of the bag. This one is smaller and clearly from a different place entirely.

He looks questioningly at Hanzo, but he is pointedly not watching McCree, pretending to need his entire focus to pour their drinks. McCree opens the box.

What he finds is an apple pie. A full one, untouched, with the slightly uneven look to the crust that comes from something handmade. He looks to Hanzo again, his mouth running dry.

"Why . . . ?" he starts, and finds himself unable to finish the question.

Hanzo sits on the edge of the bed and shrugs one shoulder, now very interested in the contents of his glass. "We ended up getting dinner the last night of our mission," he says, too casually. "One of their specialties was apparently their pies, and I remembered what you had said before."

Forgetting dinner entirely, McCree grabs one of the forks from the bag and carves out a piece of the pie right from the center. Hanzo mutters "That is barbaric," but is ignored.

It's good, definitely one of the better apple pies he's had--tart apples and sweet cinnamon, perfectly flaky crust that just about melts on the tongue. But it's the full realization of what Hanzo's done--not only remembering some inane conversation from weeks ago, but going out of his way to bring back a gift--that has him struggling to speak.

"Thank you, Hanzo" McCree says when he finally has his voice again. "This is real nice of you." Hanzo gives him a halfhearted smile. "Is this what's been eatin' at you this whole time?"

Hanzo purses his lips and runs his fingertip around the rim of his glass, which is now conspicuously empty. It is a long moment before he answers. "I had hoped to--to have a rather different conversation, but now I believe it might be better saved for another time, if you are not feeling well. It is no matter."

McCree's heart feels full to bursting. He sets aside the box and sits beside Hanzo on the bed. He knocks his hand lightly against Hanzo's and leaves it there, fingers resting in the valleys of Hanzo's knuckles. "Dunno," he says. "Seems like it might be somethin' worth talking about to me."

Realization dawns on Hanzo's face slowly. When he finally meets McCree's eye again, it's with a shy, sweet smile.

Much later, after confessions and dinner and a few self-conscious laughs are shared, McCree offers to split the rather large piece of pie with Hanzo. It's good, and he ends up eating most of it, but finds it tastes better off Hanzo's lips.

#Kerfuffle Fic #scenario prompts #Overwatch #McHanzo #Anonymous

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prettyfunkyunorganized · 6 years ago

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Sugar Daddy Hanzo part 12

Hi everyone! I’ll keep it brief because I’m very tired and very done, lol. Super stressed from school, so forgive my absence. I have along ass chapter for you though! Always feels good to write what I want. Sorry if my chapters have been off or slow recently, btw. My mind is just shot from juggling graduate school. Your ongoing support means everything to me, I want you to know that.

Anywho, 3,070 words today! Enjoy. I also put a break halfway through since it’s so long.

The last surgery came and went just like any other, leaving you waking up with Hanzo on one side of your bed while your grandparents sat on the other. You smiled at the flowers perched on your side table. They were long stems covered with tiny yellow flowers you had called ‘pixie dust’ growing up. Here in the city, you never saw these dainty little plants, but back home they were everywhere. When you were smaller, you and your grandparents would run your fingers along the stem to pull off as many flowers as you could, then make a wish as you blew all the little petals into the air. Just seeing the vase full of your childhood favorite was enough to make you smile ear to ear.

“Good morning, or rather, evening,” Hanzo said as he noticed you were awake, setting his book aside.

“Hey,” you responded groggily.

“There’s my pumpkin,” your Nana chirped out, squeezing your hand. Your grandfather snorted in his sleep, but didn’t wake up.

“He could sleep through a plane crash,” you giggled.

“At least he remembered his neck pillow this time. Last time we traveled, he forgot it, and the chiropractor nearly lost his mind,” Nana chuckled. “But enough about him, how are you, my strong girl?”

“I’m fine,” you shrugged, “sore again, but I feel like I can take a deep breath now, so that’s nice.”

“I will go find a doctor,” Hanzo offered, heading to the door. Your Nana watched him leave then turned back to you excitedly the moment he was gone.

“Tell. Me. Everything,” she demanded giddily.

You grinned. Of course, you weren’t going to tell her everything, hell you couldn’t even tell her half of it, but you knew the old gossip wouldn’t let you rest until she had at least a few details.

“Alright, Nana,” you laughed, “I’ll tell you some of the good stuff. I met him at this fancy party a while ago, and we kinda got together. Trouble of it is, he sorta, um, dumped my friend to be with me instead.”

“Oh,” she said, lowering her voice as if every word you said was a precious secret, “well that’s complicated.”

“It was Lori. You remember Lori, right? The one who I was always covering for at work and driving home after benders?”

Nana’s face went sour. “Yes, yes. I remember you telling me about her. Never understood why you liked her in the first place.”

“Well, she helped me out when I first got to the company. Now I realize she was just using me, but still, that’s how it happened. We haven’t really spoken since I started going with Hanzo, though. That is, until she shot me.”

“She’s the one who shot you,” your grandmother reeled.

“Yeah,” you sighed, rubbing a sore spot on your chest, “that was her.”

“Good grief! What a jealous bitch!” You smirked at her swearing. As a kid, you had learned all your naughty words from grandma.

“I still can’t believe she went this far,” you groaned. “Hope they find her.”

“Oh they did,” your Nana said, “Hanzo said she’s been incarcerated and is going to be locked up for a very long time. Now that I think about it, he sounded very confident of that . . .”

“He probably made sure of it,” you murmured quietly.

“What was that?”

“Oh, nothing,” you said trying to put on a sweet smile. Nana didn’t need to know you were dating the sort of man who would throw money around and bribe officials to make sure you were safe. But you knew he absolutely would.

“Well, in any case, he seems like a nice man, if not a little quiet and scary at times.”

“You think he’s scary,” you laughed. He was, but it was different to hear your grandmother say it.

“Do you not?! He’s so grave looking with that angular face of his! And so somber! There was a rather unpleasant nurse in here a while ago who made a remark about ‘only stupid people get shot,’ and before your Grandad could start barking, Mr. Shimada there gave the fellow the most powerful look! Stopped the man dead and made him lose two shades of color in his face. Gave me the shivers, too.”

“He can be like that,” you admitted with a smile, “but he means well.”

“I get that impression,” your grandmother smiled. “He seems quite taken with you.”

“He is,” you nodded, “and I’m very lucky.”

“Not half as lucky as he is,” she said with a wink. “Although, I do wish he would open up a little. We’ve been sitting here for hours but he didn’t say much.”

“Gana-nana, opening up is absolutely not his strong suit.”

“Oh, but it’s just me! I’m a sweet old lady! Who wouldn’t feel okay opening up to me?”

“Someone who has a very complicated relationship with his own family,” you clarified.

“I see,” your Nana said, glancing at the door behind her. “He looks like the type of fella with some baggage. You just keep your priorities straight, alright? You are your first priority, and you don’t have to fix anyone.”

“I know, Nana, I know,” you chuckled. “You taught me that well when I was younger.”

“No grandbaby of mine is going to get roped into micromanaging a man like I did in my first marriage,” she said firmly.

“I’m doing my best,” you promised her.

A moment later, Hanzo and a doctor came in, prompting your Nana to smack your Grandad awake. The doctor greeted you with a smile before launching into a summary of your progress. “Everything looks good so far. The tissue melded together quite nicely, your lung function is getting more normal, and you seem to be in good spirits.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, “I’m still sore and tired, but I feel like I’m getting there. Or maybe I’m just getting used to it.”

“Either way,” the doctor said, tucking her tablet under her arm, “I can’t see any reason you can’t go home now.”

“Really,” you grandmother asked worriedly, “so soon?”

“Yes. She’s been a model patient, and we have follow-up appointments scheduled, too, so I’m confident she’ll be fine. Should you need anything though, you can always give me a ring.”

“I’m not protesting,” you said taking the woman’s card from her outstretched hand. “Get me out of here!”

Your Grandad laughed. “You’ve hated hospitals since the day you popped out. Have I ever told you that story about the day your parents took you home?”

“Yes,” you groaned, “only a thousand times. ‘The minute yer momma stepped out of the sliding doors you clammed up and just looked around. Were quiet as a peep the whole way home.’”

You caught Hanzo smiling at your reenactment and wondered if you would ever hear stories about his childhood. Genji would probably happily spill the beans for you.

“Well if that’s the case,” the doctor continued, “hopefully you’ll feel better once you get some fresh air. However, once our pain medicine wears off, you might be feeling a little wiped out, so I recommend having someone at least come to check on you every once in a while if not stay with you a few days.”

“Maybe I should stay then,” Nana said, turning to her husband.

“You have to go? So soon,” you asked, your heart sinking a little.

“Rodriquez passed away last week. His memorial is the day after tomorrow,” your Grandad explained heavily. The name was familiar since he and your grandfather had been friends for decades.

“That’s awful,” you said shaking your head, “but you should both go to the memorial. I’ll be okay. The gals and Hanzo can look after me.”

“Oh, I don’t want to bother them,” your grandmother said with a wave of her hand. “I can stay.”

“It would not be a bother at all,” Hanzo finally piped up, “I had already planned on staying with your granddaughter should she need me.”

“Yeah, don’t take away my chance to make Mr. Fancy Pants here play nursemaid,” you joked, grinning at Hanzo.

“Well,” your grandmother hesitated, “it would be nice to be there for Rodriquez’s husband if he needs me. That dear man hasn’t been without his sweetheart for over seventy years . . .”

“Yes, go take care of him,” you insisted, “I’ll be just fine.” That, and you would rather spend your lazy days watching Hanzo’s handsome form take care of you instead of watching your Grandad rearrange your kitchen ‘the right way.’

“You just make sure those lady friends of your come over too,” Grandad said warningly. “I like that feisty one, and I want to make sure someone is scrutinizing this man of yours with a critical eye.”

“Marvin if you don’t cool it I’m never making you my signature alfredo sauce again,” your Nana snapped.

“Alright, alright,” the old man said, putting his hands up in surrender.

“Don’t worry, Grandad, Nicole is already on the job, isn’t she, Hanzo,” you smirked.

“She seems quite determined to find every possible fault in me,” Hanzo admitted.

“Good,” you grandfather muttered.

“Why don’t I go get a nurse to get you ready to go,” the doctor – who had been watching the spat with an amused smile – said before ducking out.

Not long after, you were bundled up in a pair of sweats and ready to finally go home. It was late in the day now, and you couldn’t help but notice you grandmother’s yawns.

“Nana, Grandad, did you get a hotel room,” you asked.

“Yes, but we can see you off to your apartment first. We’re fine,” the old woman replied.

“Speak for yourself,” Grandad said with a stretch, “I’m beat. Let this suit-wearing galoot take her home since he’s so keen on proving himself a good guy. We can come over in the morning and make the girl breakfast before we head out.”

“She’s out grandbaby Marvin! How are you not more concerned by all this?”

“Because I know just how tough our grandgirl is,” he said patting your arm. “We helped raise a hell of a young woman, and I know she’ll be okay.”

“Thanks, Grandad,” you said leaning over to kiss the top of his head. “And thanks for being a worry wort Nana, but I’m okay. All I want to do is sleep in my own bed, so you guys go hit the hay, too.”

“Oh alright,” she relented, “but you let me know if you need anything.”

“Yes ma’am,” you nodded, taking a step to Hanzo’s side.

“I have my car waiting,” he said offering his arm to you. You held his elbow and waved to your family.

“If you would rather be with them,” Hanzo began, “I will not be offended in the least.”

“No, no,” you said firmly. “I love them to bits, I do, but when I’m hurt or sick Nana starts hovering and makes it hard to relax. Grandad starts cooking way too much and destroys the whole house in the process. No, what I need tonight is quiet and you.”

“I am happy to oblige,” he said with a thin smile, opening the car door for you.

It felt like an excruciatingly long ride home, so the moment you were in the door you couldn’t help but scream, “Thank. Fucking. God!”

“You hatred of hospitals is . . . remarkable,” Hanzo said with a chuckle, locking the door behind him.

“Most things about me are remarkable though, aren’t they,” you grinned, leaning in to kiss him. This was the first time you had been able to properly put your arms around him since the two of you reconnected, and it felt fantastic. You buried your face in his chest and breathed in deeply. He always smelled clean and fresh, but now there was a tiny hint of antiseptic smell lingering on him, too. Fucking hospitals.

Hanzo kept his arms around your waist and smiled down at you. “Remarkable seems the most perfect way to describe you,” he agreed.

“It’s nice to be with you like this again,” you said softly. “I knew I missed being next to you, but I hadn’t realized just how much I’d missed it.”

“I know precisely what you mean,” he hummed gracing his hand up and down your back. You shivered.

“How long did the docs say I had to stay away from ‘strenuous activity,’” you asked leadingly, kissing the sensitive spot under his jawbone.

“Two weeks so you may properly heal,” he replied, “and I will be counting down every hour.” His hands gravitated to your ass as he left a trail of kisses from your ear to shoulder.

“Don’t tease me,” you laughed, pulling away from him.

“Forgive me,” he said with a glint in his eye, “it is still my favorite way to pass the time.”

You turned toward your kitchen and ruffled your hair. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to grill me a cheese while I take a quick shower instead?”

“Of course I will,” he nodded, making his way to your fridge, “but be careful not to get your injuries too wet. I have had plenty of experience with the waterproof coating they put on bullet wounds these days. It is only waterproof to a degree.”

“Have you been shot before,” you asked from the bathroom doorway.

“You have seen my scars before,” he said with an air of apathy, “you know how extensive they are.”

“That’s true,” you said thinking over the first time you saw him with his clothes off, “guess I didn’t recognize any of them as a healed bullet hole.”

“I am glad you have not had much experience in that,” he said pulling a pan from a cupboard. You couldn’t help but admire his toned butt.

“Here I thought all your scars came from sexual exploits gone wrong,” you laughed.

“I must admit, a few of them are,” he shrugged.

“Oh I’ve got to hear about that,” you demanded before heading to wash the grime off of you.

By the time you were feeling clean and mostly normal again, the pain medication was wearing off, leaving your aches much more noticeable. You flopped onto the couch in your pjs and sighed, rubbing your stitches. Hanzo brought a plate to you a moment later and sat.

“Thanks, Hanzo,” you said blinking your tired eyes.

“Are you feeling worse now,” he asked, his arm resting on the back of the couch behind your head. You nodded. “What can I do?”

“Nothing,” you said simply, “I think I just need to sleep in my own bed. And the warm, cheesy goodness helps, too.”

He smiled wide. “I’m glad my sandwich preparation skills are still adequate. I do not cook as much as I used to.”

“You used to?”

“Yes, after I . . . broke away from my family, I lived alone for a number of years on very little means, and so I had to learn to cook. You should have seen my first attempts. They were some of my most undeniable failures.” He grimaced as if he could still taste something burnt in his mouth.

“You’re so dedicated, though, I bet you did all the research and all the practice and figured out how to ace all your favorite meals,” you said worming a little closer to him.

He let out a loud laugh, “You certainly know my tendencies.”

“Will you make me something fancy someday,” you asked, taking another bite, “I’ll return the favor.”

“Anything you like,” he promised in a low tone, weaving his fingers into your hair. The sensation put you even more at ease, and your lids grew heavy.

“Hanzo?”

“Yes?”

“Will you stay here with me tonight? I know we can’t have any fun or anything but I – I’d . . . ”

“If you want me to stay I will,” he said with a small kiss to your forehead. “Anything you need, I am here.”

“Thank you,” you said placing your hand over your chest. “I just – it’s hard to feel safe and strong after what happened. I try my best to a confident woman and take care of myself, but after Lori . . . I just want someone close by. As much as I hated being stuck in that white room with an IV in my arm, at least there was a nurse call button and staff looking out for me all the time.”

“You will never be alone if you do not want to be so long as I am alive,” Hanzo sad firmly. “I could not be there when you were hurt, but I will do all I can to keep you safe from now on.”

You giggled, “You are a formidable guy. I’d be scared to fuck with someone I knew you cared about.”

“And I pity anyone who dares antagonize you once you recover. I have no doubt you will come out of this stronger than ever. It is just who you are, and one of the things I most adore about you.”

“You’re so good to me,” you smiled, kissing his arm.

“I will try to be deserving of you.”

“I know, and I will be, too. But no more trying tonight. I’m exhausted and I need some sleep. ASAP,” you groaned.

“Do you have fresh sheets for your bed,” Hanzo asked, standing.

“Yeah, in the top of the closet, but I don’t know if they really need to be changed yet.”

“Nonsense,” Hanzo said with a small frown, “few things feel better than fresh sheets. Finish eating, and I will make up your bed.”

“Thanks, my considerate man,” you beamed.

After a few moments of spacing out, you heard Hanzo call out to you.

“May I ask you for a favor,” he asked.

“Um, sure,” you hesitated.

“Remind me to but you decent sheets,” he said, a displeased lilt in his voice.

“Are you judging my bedding,” you laughed.

“Yes, my beauty, yes I am.”

“Fancy pants,” you chuckled under your breath. Despite Hanzo’s insistence that your sheets, pillowcases, and mattress all needed to be replaced, he still crawled into bed with you, letting you snuggle up as much as you wanted. With him pressed against you, the feeling of safety settled into your bones and allowed you to drift peacefully off to sleep.

@collinssie @watch-your-grammer @zarcake-writes @yesthisisbae @eebbapanda1@deercapitate @missbumblina@skyrina@justjaaaay@thewetbones@skyelentnight @ilovebva @punk-dork @cbrokeherboobs@sobanoodledragon@sydniesamm@honeyburger@knightofsexyness @queenoflabyrinths@speakingishard@iknowimcutethanks @ninevast @ivymarquis @sydniesamm@barbie-the-centrist @tumblertrash@angle0fthegourd@shaybae1997 @lillypet95 @rusty-potato @tt-nikithakppr @honeydew-do-you @kitties-and-unicorns @spookymf @seachelle-the-tideborn

** please let me know if you would like to be tagged or removed from the tags in future updates and sorry if I missed anyone, I feel like tumblr is deleting my shit**

#overwatch #hanzo #hanzo x reader #sugar daddy hanzo #reader insert #mine #my drabble #overwatch drabble

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robo-cryptid · 7 years ago

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Back on my armadillo bullshit. [Part 1] [Part 2] Glorious, glorious art, links listed by artist: [retrogaming-raccoon] [murpl] [bluandorange] A little of Hanzo's home life; the dragons make an appearance. They are not dragons. They're bigass skinks. (Noodles.) Sandy continues to armadillo badly. Fun armadillo fact: they're good swimmers!

Hanzo spent the weekend at home. Genji didn’t show up until Saturday, in the kind of mood that made Hanzo both happy for him and a little tired. Genji, naturally, did not take the cue to leave Hanzo alone; he instead pestered Hanzo about spending “too much” time alone.

“I am not alone,” Hanzo said. He gestured at the terrarium that housed Soba and Udon.

Despite that he was holding Ramen at the moment, Genji still laughed. He pet a hand over her head. “You need friends who don’t eat bugs.”

“You know bugs are a delicacy in many countries,” Hanzo muttered, but he watched Soba snap at a wriggling earthworm and he thought his brother might have a point.

He spent most of Sunday fielding texts from Lena, who was apparently having as much trouble getting Sandy to eat as he had. Despite that he’d written everything Sandy would eat on his file, it seemed he was being especially fussy. He thought about going in. Then he thought about how much Genji would mock him for working on a Sunday, thought about the gym he hadn’t been to in two days and the dojo he’d ignored for four, and he managed to stay away from work for another day.

“I think he likes you best,” Lena laughed on Monday. Sandy chattered as if in response, and Hanzo sighed.

“If that is true, Sandy, you’ll get in the bath,” Hanzo scolded. Sandy chirruped and flicked his ears, but he did not, in fact, get in the bath. He circled the plastic basin warily.

“They’re supposed to like water,” Lena said, crouching down near Sandy, who eyed her. She flicked a little of the water at him, and he made a sound almost like a high-pitched honk and moved closer to Hanzo.

“Sandy, we see you naked every day. There’s no reason to be shy.” Hanzo tapped the edge of the basin. Sandy nudged his leg, and Hanzo gave up on patience. Sandy had never gotten aggressive before, so he doubted it would happen this time. He plucked him up and dunked him unceremoniously into the basin.

Sandy made a sound like an angry cat and strained his head upward like he was afraid to drown. Hanzo grabbed for him again, petting a hand down his back until Sandy seemed to realize the water wasn’t that deep. It only came up his shell a little ways, with plenty of room for him to stand up above it. “See?” Hanzo asked, and he tentatively scooped some water over Sandy’s back.

Lena just stared. “He is so...”

“Strange? Yes.” Hanzo thought about the way he’d seemed afraid he’d drown. “Perhaps his eyesight is worse than usual?” Hanzo continued to pet the water over the armor on his back. “Are you going to be good now?” Sandy squeaked, and he moved happily in the water while Hanzo scrubbed the tough armor gently with a brush. Eventually, he even purred. When he was clean enough, Hanzo let him splash happily in the water to rinse off. He even rolled in it, went belly up and let Hanzo scratch at his tummy. It only lasted a moment before he wriggled back to his feet, ears flicking water, and scrambled from Hanzo’s hand and out of the basin.

They had to chase him, but it wasn’t difficult, even when he was wet. He scrabbled a little on the linoleum, neither the water nor his missing leg allowing for a great deal of speed. Hanzo snorted as he scooped him up into one of their faded old towels. “Troublemaker.”

Lena giggled, rubbing another towel over his back while Hanzo held him. Sandy just flicked his ears, but he was perfectly still for them. “He wasn’t half this good for me this weekend. You’re definitely his favorite.”

Armadillo Art Roundup

#armadillo mccree au #drabbles #mchanzo

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ladamab · 7 years ago

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Twas the night before Christmas and all through the base not a creature was stirring except for--

“Your face!” Genji exclaimed, his laughter echoing clearly through the halls of the dining room as he clutched his sides and bent at the waist. It was the annual ugly sweater party here at Overwatch, a tradition that had obviously been suspended the last few years but with the gang all together again this was an opportunity to break out the really atrocious knits. Genji’s was bright green and proclaimed ‘Christmas Ninja’ for all to see. Complete with little knitted shuriken and honestly, Hanzo was about 99.9% sure that he’d had it made just for this occasion.

“What’s wrong with my face?” Hanzo asked, indignant and checking his beard for any irregularities as he stirred the eggnog he was making. Whoever decided to let Jesse and Hanzo be in charge of drinks this year clearly had no idea how much they drank when given the chance to let their hair down. He scowled at his brother who was to the point of tears running down his scarred cheeks and sliding down the cabinets to sit on his ass in the floor. “Have you already drank some of the eggnog?” He was so sure that none had been stolen yet…

“Your face--” Genji wheezed again, coughing and outright laying on the cold cement floor of the industrial kitchen used to fix most of Overwatch’s meals. “What did you do to your hair!? Why is half of it white--”

Hanzo frowned, rubbing his chin with what couldn’t possibly be a pout because Shimadas didn’t pout. “I didn’t do anything to my hair. This is the way it grows now. I’m… Matured.” He looked away, blushing in annoyance and mild humiliation at going gray so young.

“You’re old. That’s what you’re saying right now.” Genji snickered as he pulled himself off the ground and moved to hug Hanzo who’d gone the traditional route and procured what was clearly a crime against humanity produced sometime in the mid 1980’s and tried not to make a face at the rough wool as it scrubbed at his cheek.

“I’m not old.” Hanzo returned, continuing to stir the eggnog and opted to go for more liquor. “I’m mature. Like fine wine.”

“Mmhmm.” Genji snorted, grinning and tugging on his brother’s ponytail before letting him go. “You’re old-- but it’s ok! I love you anyway, aniki.”

“You think it’s too late to try killing you again?” Hanzo asked, a wry smile on his lips as he glanced back toward the younger and was rewarded with being flipped the bird. “I’ll take that as a no.”

“Yeah yeah, try me. I’m bigger, badder, and made of a lot more metal.” Genji smirked, sticking out his tongue as he moved to try and ladle out some eggnog. The resounding twang! as Hanzo smacked his fingers with the spoon he’d been stirring with made the younger whimper and pout even though his metal fingers wouldn’t feel a thing. “Hey! What was that for?” “I thought you were bigger and badder now, ah?” He grinned, reaching out to tug on the younger’s ear affectionately like when they were younger. Neither of them were fooled by Genji's act and the younger broke out in another laugh as he once again looked at the two-toned haircut. The pair of them turned as they heard the door behind them open and the tell-tale sound of spurs.

“Who’s bigger ‘n badder?” Jesse asked, setting down the large ham he’d been tasked with fetching from the store and offered one of his signature crooked grins. While Hanzo couldn’t convince him to outright throw the ‘bamf’ sweater away, he could at least convince him to wear a different one every so often. This one was bright red and featured a Christmas tree with broken ornaments on the ground and the proclamation ‘My balls have dropped.’ Hanzo found it amusing for reasons he couldn’t quite place.

“Genji. He thinks because he’s a cyborg that he’s allowed to talk shit to his elders.” Hanzo purred, accepting the cold cowboy into his arms to warm the man up… and just about smacked him too when a frigid metal hand began to slither up his shirt. “Could you not?” He’d never admit to that yelp either, not for all the torture on the planet.

Jesse and Genji snickered, enjoying a bit of light-hearted bantering before the big party as much as anyone. “So, uh… Genji. Didja have a chance to lookit that thing I asked you t’ lookit?” Jesse asked, careful about his phrasing to the cyborg when the recipient of said ‘thing’ was currently in the room with them.

“I did. I have to say, I think it’ll go over well.” Genji smirked back and leaned against the counter with his arms crossed over his chest looking every inch like the cat that had gotten into the cream with his knowing of a secret that Jesse so desperately didn’t want to give away too soon. “So… When are you planning all of this?”

McCree smiled, shoving his hands in his pockets while Hanzo began to check on the pies in the oven, his flesh hand closing around a small box in his pocket and giving a shrug. “I’m thinkin’ tonight. After the shindig... “ “Good idea,” The cyborg nodded and glanced back at Hanzo at the stove. He knew that Hanzo wasn’t the kind of person to expect anything like this so when Genji had seen the beautiful band Jesse had picked out with his modest savings… well, he’d been so excited that he’d nearly cried. His two favorite people in the world; McCree would finally be a brother in more than just the Blackwatch sense. It was fitting and he couldn’t wait to hear about it later.

Five golden rings...

#overwatch #mchanzo #hanzo shimada #Jesse McCree #fanfiction #mchanzo fanfiction #genji shimada #christmas #fluff #Cross posted from Ao3

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flannelfiction · 7 years ago

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It Ain't Perfect, But It's Ours

Chapter One : Life and Love

Old story with some typos, but I like the idea and may come back to it.

This is on my AO3~~~~ @jenkinzram

The house is warm and full of life as people start to gather in Jack and Gabriel's cabin living room. Outside, snow is falling gracefully in swirling gusts of wind, and several pairs of footsteps line the front yard path. Window howls outside the window in an orderly rage, forcing huge pines to sway to and fro in a turbulent dance.

Handmade ornaments are placed in windows and on a small pine that was only about seven feet tall. The pine was a beautiful blue spruce s and was now a sight to behold. No lights were on the tree since electricity was limited out here. Instead, there were brilliant colors and dried flowers and crocheted pieces and more.

"Jack! You baker!" Jesse chuckles as he grabs a gingerbread cookie off a plate. " How the hell d'ya get so much stuff all made up so easy?" His remark earns him a slap on the knuckles from Hanzo. Hanzo knew he was going in for his fourth cookie before he ate his third. Jesse puts on a mock betrayed look, to which Hanzo rolls his eyes and snorts. Clutching his chest, Jesse exclaims, "Darlin'! Ya wound me!"

"Quiet, cowboy," Hanzo scolds with a small, soft smile that wasn't missed by the happy go lucky cowboy. One of Jesse's arms snakes behind Hanzo and pulls him closer yet.

Genji fake gags and continues to cuddle the blanket with his husband, Zenyatta. Zen can't hold back the chuckle at the neon green haired young adult. Genj's eyes are shut as he laughs due to Hanzo glaring teasingly at him. The scarred skin on his face pulled tight, and Zen is thrilled he's laughing again.

All the scarring and burning covers most of his body, and all of it comes from the same incident. A semi truck ran a red light and hit his van. The engine then caught on fire and blew. Braces support his arms still since he still has some corrective surgeries and rehab. His legs are prosthetic, but are a newer technology that let's them have some feeling.

Zen himself is not without physical signs of the crash, neither are Hanzo or Jesse. Zen lost his legs, but he wasn't a good candidate for the new type of prosthetic limbs. So, while he can walk around on them, he is mainly wheelchair bound. Unlike his Japanese counter part, the Indian man is much more calm about his situation immediately. He was happy to be alive and able to see Genji once more.

Hanzo lost a leg and had to have a special implant placed in his ears so he'd have some form of hearing left. His spine got singed up pretty good, too, so he is now trying to salvage what he has left. Constant chiropractor and spinal injections are a permanent part of his life now. He can't get a surgery to solve everything in one go, and he can't only get one surgery a year with the other adjust he gets. The nuerologist part of his medical staff are wary about how to stint his spine up for a permanent solution. And with all the craze, Hanzo is glad to have Jesse and Genji and Zen.

Jesse got to deal with many shattered bones and a lot arm. Thankfully, he was a good candidate for the new type of prosthetic limb and got an arm with feeling in it. The shattered bones are tedious and some still aren't perfect, but it's a work in progress. Just like his remaining, very weak arm. Jesse has to rely on Hanzo to lift everything about twenty pounds because of the prosthetic and his other arm. And much like Genji that went through the crash, his body is riddled with scars from burns and cuts. Both of them were under the engine when it caught fire.

Since all four have their own weakness that the other three can cope for, they decided it'd be best to move into one big house. It's a two story with an elevator and everything is handicap accessible. The kitchen is rigged for wheelchair and standing use, and the breakfast bar is at wheelchair level. The kitchen is definitely Zen's favorite -- he designed the thing -- room in the house.

Genji grasps Zen's hand with a very warm smile. Squeezing Genji's hand back, Zen leans in and pecks the still smiling Genji on the lips. A loud fake vomit sound is hears from Hanzo and Jesse at the same time. Laughter erupts from everyone, and Genji's eyes water immediately. "Aniki, your lover is definitely rubbing off his childish ways on you."

"I didn't rub off on him! If anything, he rubbed off on me!" Jesse attempts to defend himself poorly. Hanzo eyes already have a devious tint to them.

"Oh really?" Hanzo raises an eyebrow. "Cause I'm damn sure you have a bad habit of getting it in my hair." Jesse flushes bright red and raises a hand to pull his cowboy hat down over his eyes. He continues to shoot sideways glances at Hanzo. Laughter gets louder as Genji looks horrified.

"I'm never doing your hair again! EVER!" Genji leans on Zen dramatically. Zen teasingly covers his ears and pulls him to his chest.

"My precious child, too pure for your sinful tongues!" Zen exasperates, tipping his head back for emphasis. Cheerful banter ensues for a while.

#genyatta #mchanzo #reaper76 #genji shimada #zenyatta #jesse mccree #hanzo shimada #gabriel reyes #reaper #solider 76 #jack morrison #christmas #cabin #woods #modern!au #winter #snow #it aint perfect but its ours #overwatch

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writing-for-overwatch · 7 years ago

Text

Surprise Bitch (Hanzo Shimada)

Pairing: Hanzo Shimada/Wife!Reader Words: 780+ Warning(s): FLUFF, some blood mention A/N: Honestly the title has nothing to do with this fluff piece but I put it as my doc title to keep track and I love it. it makes me laugh so hard and idk why. also this is my favorite fic ive written on here yet. Request: Hanzo x reader where he thinks his s/o(wife) died but at the overwatch recall shes just like 'oh yeah wassup im alive' and he just breaks down in happiness and they just hold each other and cuddle whispering sweet nothings?

Hanzo Shimada glared at his younger brother as Genji lead him through the new Overwatch base. After many visits by Genji, trying to get his brother to join the recall, Hanzo finally agreed to join. It was either joining Overwatch with his pestering brother or the terrorist organization Talon, he chose the former. Plus, Genji told him he is in for a big surprise, which Hanzo doubted would be anything good.

"We are here, brother." They stopped in front of two doors before the cyborg pushed them open, revealing a bunch of different agents sitting around. "Let me introduce you to everyone-"

"There is no need, Genji." Hanzo glared.

"Oh, there is. Everyone I have returned!" He called out, snapping everyone'd attention on them both. "I have returned with my brother, Hanzo Shimada!"

"What, the Hanzo? The one you and (Y/N) one shut up about?" One of the agents laugh. Hanzo's breath was caught in his throat and his hand latched onto the wedding band he wore as a necklace. (Y/N) Shimada was his late wife, who was killed by assassins sent by the Shimada clan when him and (Y/N) were ambushed.

"Genji? What is the meaning of this?" Hanzo hissed to his brother, thinking this was some sort of sick joke. Genji simply shook his head and chuckle, pulling his brother through the room and down another hallway, stopping at one door.

"Knock. Go ahead."

"I swear-"

"Just do it, Hanzo." The archer gulped, giving the door two, hard knocks against the door. There was some shuffling on the other side before the door slowly opening.

(Y/N) Shimada.

"Oh, hey Genji, hey Hanzo." She greeted casually, opening her bedroom wider while leaning on the frame. Hanzo's face was in pure shock, his jaw was slack and his eyes were wide as he stared at his supposedly dead wife. "Surprise, I'm... alive."

"I will just leave you two catch up." The younger Shimada gave a bow a jogged away from the reunited couple.

"So, I guess you want to know the story, huh? Why don't you in and I'll fill you in." She grabbed his hand, making him jump, before pulling into her room. She and Hanzo sat at the foot of her bed, he couldn't help but notice her wedding band was around her neck like his.

"How-How are you still alive? I saw you get taken down by the assassins... you told me to run as you laid on the ground bleeding..." He felt his throat constrict and his eyes burn as the painful memory resurfaced in his mind. "You were alive and I left you-!"

"Hanzo don't blame yourself. I wasn't even sure I was going to make it. I don't blame you for leaving either, I told you to." (Y/N) placed a hand on his cheek, swiping away a stray tear with the pad of her thumb. "After you left me, I thought I was going to die, but thankfully Genji was following us. He took care of the assassins and got me help. I left with minimal scarring, though Angela wasn't able to save my leg." She chuckled slightly and pulled up her pajama bottoms, revealing her right leg was a prosthetic.

"You've been alive all this time, yet you haven't reached out to me?"

"Your good at hiding you tracks, it took Genji a long time to find you the first time." He looked at you in disbelief, making you sigh. "I spent a good amount of time unconscious due to blood loss and spent two months getting used to my new leg, I wanted to reach out to you but everyone thought against it until they knew you would join the recall. Trust me, if I could have I would of ran out of here to look for you, Hanzo." They sat in silence for a few seconds, he was still trying to process what his wife told him. "Look, if the leg bothers you..."

"No, it doesn't. You're still beautiful."

"I was joking, I would beat you with it if you found it disgusting." She laughed, making him snort at her tone.

"I've missed you so much, my love." Hanzo pulled out the necklace that had his ring, she smiled and held out her ring.

"I missed you too, darling." (Y/N) pulled him into a tight hug, which her returned, burying his face into the crook of her neck. She rubbed his back and he was telling her sweet nothings to her in Japanese, back together again.

#hanzo shimada #overwatch hanzo #hanzo x reader #hanzo shimada x reader #hanzo imagine #Overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch imagine #sombra imagines

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alderations · 7 years ago

Text

roughing it

Day 5 (late) - camping!

Rating: Teen Audiences

Tags: fluff, domestic shit, mchanzo, symmarah, idk...

“My feet are gonna be covered in blisters, Zen.”

Zenyatta heaved a long-suffering sigh, or at least the robotic equivalent. “You don’t have feet.”

“Yes I do! And they hurt!” Though Genji was wearing his visor, his voice still made it clear that he was pouting behind it. “Just because I’m mostly metal doesn’t mean I’m not still soft and sensitive.”

“Certainly. On the inside.”

While Genji groaned like a child being dragged out of a candy store, Jesse adjusted his daypack and took a long draught from his water bottle. “We’re three miles in, Genji. You’re usually the lightest on those feet outta anyone I know.”

“I don’t think he’s every genuinely ‘roughed it,’ as you say,” Hanzo muttered from beside him.

“I have,�� sputtered Genji. “What did you think I did post-Blackwatch? Floated around on luxury cruises?”

Jesse snorted, glanced at Hanzo, and both of them answered in unison, “Yes.”

Though he deflated even more at his friends’ teasing, Zenyatta’s cool hand on his shoulder perked Genji up again. He turned to look at his teacher, quizzical, and then smiled at the reassuring tilt of the omnic’s head.

They’d been growing close to Jesse’s ideal campsite for a few minutes, and as they crested a ridge and started down into a more sparsely vegetated area, the cowboy put his hands on his hips and proclaimed himself ready to settle down. Hanzo didn’t stop walking until he ran into Jesse’s elbow, which looked entirely purposeful from Genji’s angle. “So. Who’s ready to help me with this tent?” Jesse chirped.

“Just the one…?” grumbled Genji, already glaring between his brother and his best friend. He was not mentally prepared to sleep in the same space as the two of them, even with his own… love interest to distract him.

“Satya and Fareeha have another one. They’ll set it up once they get here.” The two women had come home from a mission the day before, so they decided to sleep in before joining the camping expedition. “Besides, I got a tarp and some blankets, and my friendly local space-heatin’ dragon man, so I’m good out under the stars.”

Genji crinkled his nose and tried to walk slower so that he couldn’t hear his best friend’s sappiness. “Well, that’s. Good for you, Jesse. Please don’t refer to my brother as a space heater in front of me.”

“Agreed,” Hanzo muttered.

They were halfway through assembling the tent by the time Genji realized that he was going to end up alone in a tent with Zenyatta, which left him flustered and blushing under his mask as he struggled to hide his nervous energy. It had been a month since Genji’s genuine feelings toward his mentor had come bubbling out of his mouth, and since Zenyatta had returned those feelings in kind. They weren’t dating, per se, even though most of their teammates considered that to be the case. Even before the mutual confession, they had spent most of their time together, usually touching or at least in close proximity, and that hadn’t changed. As he agonized over the possibility of ticks or mosquitoes making their way into the flesh parts of his body (virtually impossible as it was), Genji worried just as much over being alone—sleeping alone—with his… boyfriend. That was okay. They’d decided on that word. When Genji had been fighting to heal in Nepal, they’d spent nights together, usually just so that the soft glow of Zenyatta’s forehead array could keep him grounded and prevent him from rampaging, but this would be the first night they’d spent together now that they were, well, together.

He wasn’t surprised when Hanzo caught onto his apprehension and pulled him aside, while Jesse and Zenyatta struggled with the longest of the tentpoles and nearly stabbed each other with it. “If you’re not comfortable sleeping with Zenyatta when the rest of us are here, you do not have to. I don’t think he would mind staying outside.”

“I—sleeping with? I hope you’re not—”

“No, Genji, that’s not what I meant,” Hanzo interrupted, shaking his head with wide eyes. “I meant that I could trade places with Zenyatta. If you’d like. As much as I love Jesse, I also love sleeping with a roof over my head.”

For a moment, Genji almost considered it, and then felt a strange flux of emotions in response. First of all, he was delighted that he was able to trust his brother enough that sharing a tent, just the two of them, felt safe. Then, he realized that he did very much want to sleep with Zenyatta, at least in the more literal sense. In his early post-Blackwatch days, he remembered feeling like Zenyatta, while unfamiliar and even scary at times, was the only true source of safety in his life. Every touch was jarring and miraculous at the same time. It had taken years for Genji to get to the point where anyone could touch him without making him jump, but his body had acclimated perfectly well to the feeling of metal fingertips gracing his shoulders, his back, sometimes his face. While Genji didn’t miss his dependence on Zenyatta at that time, he did occasionally miss the feeling that every touch was a revolution between himself and his experiences. And with the way their relationship had turned, that feeling was coming back.

Most of all, however, Genji was filled with mischief as Hanzo shuffled in front of him. “Oh, Hanzo,” he laughed, “a night in the open air will do you some good, yes? Plus, how else will you and Jesse prove you’re tougher than me?”

“I don’t know, Genji. Did I not already prove it to be true when a slug crawled up your ankle and you screamed, or…?”

Genji sighed and stomped away before Hanzo could continue his teasing. Of course, that wasn’t the end of his misery. Every detail of camping was miserable, as far as the cyborg was concerned—his armor overheating in the sun, insects buzzing too close to his auditory receptors, eating Jesse’s refried beans and stale rice around a fire that put out too much smoke for his taste. Fareeha and Satya were two of Genji’s favorite people, but even they could get irritating once they decided to invent campfire songs about how their teammates irritated them on missions. Thankfully, they went to bed before they could harass Genji too much, leaving him and Zenyatta alone in their tent.

Despite his paranoid instincts telling him to be ready for battle at any time, Genji removed the outer plating of his armor and bundled himself in a massive sleeping bag before laying on the floor of the tent, facing Zenyatta. Moments passed in silence before Zenyatta floated gently to the ground to nestle in next to Genji.

“Camping is the actual worst,” mumbled Genji, shuffling closer to rest his head in Zenyatta’s lap. His visor was already off, and Zenyatta didn’t waste a second before running his smooth, cool fingers through his boyfriend’s hair. “And I’m—I’m sorry I’ve been kinda awkward about this. About us.”

“Your actions have all been understandable, Genji. I’m only glad that you feel comfortable now.”

Genji sighed into Zenyatta’s knee. “I spent years training myself to believe that love was out of the question for me. Not even just ‘I’m gonna die alone’ and all that, but that it wasn’t even a possibility. So wh-when our friends expect us to act all romantic and lovey like they do, it’s like they’re pulling me back into this weird world where I’m actually… like them.”

Blue light pulsed in a slow rhythm from Zenyatta’s forehead and illuminated the conflict on Genji’s face. “It took you years to reconcile and understand your own humanity. Smaller facets such as this must be difficult as well.”

“Hm.”

“Besides,” whispered Zenyatta, “humanity is not very important in terms of love. I can assure you that the feeling is just as strong for omnics.”

A shiver wracked Genji’s spine, and he buried his face in Zenyatta’s pants to hide how he blushed at the quiet admission. As he started to get comfortable at last, however, his brother’s voice floated into the tent, followed by a sound from McCree that was… less than desirable to Genji’s ears.

“I take back everything I said earlier,” moaned Genji. “Camping can get worse, because those two can’t keep their fucking mouths shut.”

Zenyatta’s laugh made up for the awkwardness.

#overwatch #genyatta #genyatta week summer #my writing

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mxvladdy · 4 years ago

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A Break

Part Duo. Some fluff, some plot. I guess? I just like writing this one.

Chapters: 1-2-3-4

Two

Hanzo left later that evening with a chaste kiss and a promise to call when he could. You watch him go, waving him off from your little balcony stopping only when he became lost in the sea of people below. The gold of his ribbon disappearing in the blur of faces and colors. Alone again you flop down onto your bed staring watery-eyed up at your ceiling fan. The quiet around you no longer the comforting kind, his soft-spoken presence a larger comfort then you thought. Already you missed the feel of him draped over you in bed, his gentle snoring in your ear.

Glancing at your alarm clock you debate whether it was worth it to get up and do something with your evening or just call it an early night. Fuck it. You were gloriously sore and sleeping sounded amazing right now. Work could wait for tomorrow. Laziness winning over you rose kicking off your leggings slipping under the covers of the freshly made bed, courtesy of Hanzo. Stretching out on his side of the mattress you reach out to your bedside table, fingers ideally pulling Hanzo's latest gift to you.

The metal of the pendant was cool to the touch. The light silver chain of the necklace shone brightly from the twilight outside. Thumbing over the tiny owl impression on the drachma you smile longingly. Slipping it over your head you tuck the coin under your shirt.

Greece. What an adventure.

You wished he could have stayed longer this time to talk about his travels. Greece had been a place you dreamed of going when you were younger, but gave it up to get your career off the ground. That was your life now, bookkeeping and payroll. Our business needed you more than you needed to travel. Perhaps one day you could feel confident enough to leave the shop for a world tour. Or maybe even a romantic getaway with Hanzo, see if you were really compatible.

Admittedly your romance had been a whirlwind from the start. A drunken kiss with a handsome stranger that should have led to nowhere but a musty motel room followed by an awkward goodbye. But instead, you woke up with his number and a promise of an actual date. Half a year later Hanzo had a drawer of clothes and a toothbrush in the bathroom. Snuggling in deeper under the sheets you yawn clicking off your lamp drifting off with your phone clutched in your hand. You sleep peacefully wrapped in your boyfriend's warm floral scent till a light buzzing wakes you. Your phone vibrates, the light blinding you when you unlock it. Not that you care.

Hanzo (3:14am):

Shuttle just landed. Be safe for me.

You (3:14am):

Always will :*

And you too please! I find myself rather attached…

Hanzo (3:16am):

Ha. I will try not to freeze to death.

Hanzo (3:16am):

Perhaps you could warm me up next time?

You snort wrinkling your nose at his flirting.

You (3:16am):

Yes sir! But it’ll cost you

Hanzo(3:20am):

A price I will willingly pay.

Hanzo(3:22am):

I must go, I’ll call when I get the chance.

You (3:23am):

Goodnight! Miss you already

You wake late the next morning groggy but warm, tangled in the sheets. Alarm screaming obnoxiously close to your face. Blindly, you swipe at the phone silencing the noise and rise. Waddling groggily you head to the bathroom to get ready for the day. You arrive an hour late grinning ear to ear. Your friends and employees glancing up smirking at your poor excuse for calling in sick yesterday. You let them work heading to the back to get your workload started for the day. Setting up in the back of the store in your favorite corner you look over your new assortment of dried leaves, flowers, and fruits.

The background noise of the shop and quiet music overhead lulling you into a comfortable trance. You hum under your breath pulling your scale closer to you blatantly ignoring Tabatha. She circles you like a hawk, keen eyes looking for any opening to start grilling you. The heat of her gaze latching on to the blemishes and love bites you didn’t even bother hiding. Placing your pestle down you sigh turning to her. “Ok. Ok. Lay it on me girl.”

Tabatha moved in fast plopping down next to you grabbing your pile of dried lemon rinds. “In all the time I have known you I’ve never seen this.” She starts shaving the rinds down smaller. “You skipped work, unannounced. During peak season!” She rounds on you dumping the shavings into their allotted jar. “I’m so proud!” You laugh tension you hadn’t noticed you were carrying in your shoulders dissipating. “I’m serious!” She continues. “All this time and I’ve never seen you finally blow off some steam till he showed up.” Tabatha smiles and leans closer flicking a soft curl ticking your ear. “You know you have to bring him around for drinks and leftovers sweets. Shit, the rest of the team wants to meet him too! Your pictures don’t do him justice.” You nod promising to ask next time he came to visit.

The rest of the day moved on from there at breakneck speed, the front portion of the shop bursting with patrons. The back with employees running about, fresh herbs, pastries, and coffee carafes in hand. The din of your business running smoothly a comfort to your frazzled mind. You finish your newest blend with a flourish, sprinkling dried ginger into the jar closing it with a satisfying ‘snap’.

“Yo Boss! Can you cover the front while I take my break?” Switching places you wish your employee a good break. Perching at the register you make small talk with a few regulars as the evening lull hits. Greeting a cluster of teenagers as they entered you pause mid conversation taking in the new customers coming in behind them.

Oh. Well, this was rare. Omnics came in from time to time sure that wasn’t unusual. You make it a point to welcome everyone equally, as did your employees. But omnics always came in with human companions or solo to pick up an order or gift. And they most certainly never glowed. You eye the two curiously. The green one wandering aimlessly picking up different jars of teas and homemade jams before being over a display case of brightly colored macaroons. The other taller one was dressed in baggy pants merely looked at the counter before making eye contact.

“Ahh~ greetings.” He spoke. His voice, while naturally monotone it held an underlying tone of levity. “I wish to inquire about your tea selections. I have heard you have a unique variety.”

“Oh course!” You blush embarrassed that you were caught staring. “We have a small selection of in house blends, but the bulk of our products are sourced from fair trade shops from India, China, Japan, and Africa.” You recite by heart pulling out your display tray. The omnic looked down at the cards reading each selection as you described them nodding along patiently.

“What a peculiar name?” He picked up your latest custom blend. Southern Dragon. “How do you come up with the names?”

“I let my staff pick and vote on names. But this one-” You smile softly popping the tin open. “I named after someone.” The tea itself didn’t look like anything fancy sure. The blend of reddish-brown sticks looked like something someone could scoop up outside, Tabatha had joked about it often. “ Hojicha, roasted in house with dried ginger and imported nashi pear. This is the first season we are caring it as I like to buy fruits only when in season. It isn’t one of our most popular yet, but many customers have appreciated the mild caramel flavor and slight sweetness of the peaches and gentle tang of the ginger.”

“I see, that sounds very pleasant. I would like a bag of that and perhaps the sharp lemon for my pupil.” You nod scooping out the desired amounts into two small bags weighing them swiftly.

“And anything for you?” You smile less genuinely at the smaller omnic as they all but swaggered over. You had felt his gaze the whole time you had been chatting.

“Hmm.” They leaned on your counter visor not leaving you, long metal fingers clicking on the marble counter top. “I’d take a small shortcake and a three-pack of macaroons, the matcha ones; if they come with your number.”

You freeze choking on your smile, even the other omnic seemed surprised.

“Genji-”

“We have our business number on the bottom of our boxes and bags, and a popular online storefront.” You ring him up quickly handing him his order.

“Mmm. I was hoping for something more...personal.” They continued voice dropping low into a slightly clipped purr.

“No.” You cut them off quickly, smile gone. “I have a boyfriend.”

They gasp in mock shock. If they had lips you were positive they would be stretched into a shit eating grin. “What a lucky man.” They tip heavily turning without another word to the door, phone out texting animatedly. You look blankly at their abandoned companion waving a hand uselessly at the door.

“I apologize. He sometimes forgets himself. I hope my pupil didn’t offend? I would like to return at a later date.” They bow low in compensation. “I will have him apologize properly when we meet again.”

Meet again… You jerk your head awkwardly still processing what in the world just happened.

“Woooow,” Tabatha drawls wrapping an arm around you watching the two take their leave, the taller one levitating the moment they were outside. “ Wow . Popular with all types huh? Thought I was gonna need to come in here an’ knock heads.”

“Please,” You scoff recovering to wipe down the counter. “That has to be one for the books, right next to that time I fell in the school fountain at graduation. All white- like a dumb ass.” Tabatha howls with laughter already walking back to your shared office.

“A beautiful day in history. But damn that green one was mighty pleased to hear you were taken.”

“Ha-ya.” You frown rubbing your arm. Now that you think about it it was kinda weird. Perhaps they were a friend of Hanzo’s. He never spoke of omnics, cowboys and old vets, but you would think highlighter green would stick out.

Tabatha came back talking to the last of your closing staff noticing you were still looking out the window. “Hey- you ok?”

“Yea-yea. Just thinking about it now.” Your friend frowns discarding her armload to lead you back into your office dropping you in your chair.

“I’m sure it’s nothing. But how ‘bout you get started on the paperwork, and I’ll cover the front in case they come back.” You agree already pulling a stack of orders to you booting up your computer. You get a few hours of work done in peace as your employees filter out for the night, bidding you and Tabatha a good night. With a huff she collapses to the couch watching you work for a moment.

“You forgot didn’t you.” Hmm? Tabatha meets your blank stare dark brows raised into her hairline prompting you. Blinking you try slyly to look at your calendar. Was it someone's birthday? Anniversary? “ Gurl ." She jokes. "Dick that good you forgot whine and cheese night?” Oh. Oops.

Whine and cheese night had been a tradition since grad school, then when you went into business together. Every last Sunday of the month you two had a few too many drinks and bitched about anything that came to mind that month. Tabatha chortled grabbing your keys and turning off your monitor. “Good thing I remember. I got some new vintages and some fancy cheeses I stole from my girl’s fridge.” She leads you out of the shop locking up the building pushing you out into the brisk night air. You walk the short distance to your flat listening to her talk rapidly about her upcoming trip with her girlfriend to France. “Handsome take you anywhere yet?” She asks finally taking a breath at your front door.

“Does the city fair count?” You ask flipping on the lights to your kitchen. You glaze at your friend's face. Clearly it did not. “He isn’t around often enough to do something like that. Not that I mind,” You add quickly trying to get your piece in before she decides to cut in, her frown growing. “We had plans to rent a beach house for a weekend but he had an emergency at work. After that, we just do stay in dates or stuff around town.”

“What, he always on call or something?” Tabby flops hard onto your floor pillow kicking off her shoes. “Or like too afraid to tell his boss off?”

You snort passing your lounging friend an overfilled glass of zinfandel. “Bit late for the background check ain’t it?” She accepts the wine gracefully wiggling deeper into the cushions stealing your remotes. “Besides, I like just having lazy days here. He travels a lot for work so I’m sure that gets exhausting. I doubt a road trip would be relaxing for him. I like just having him here even if it is to just sleep.”

“Rrrriiiggghhtt. ‘Sleep’ .” She snorts looking wholly unconvinced as you settle into your favorite recliner sticking your tongue out teasingly. The two of you get lost in your favorite show then, talking on and off between mouthfuls of pizza and chips. “So-” Tabatha rises a few hours later popping her back. Eyes going to the liquor cabinet dramatically. “Wanna bring out the good shit and tell me all about your impromptu to vacation day?” She wiggles her brows, popping the cork out of your favorite gin bottle pouring you way too much. Downing your first glass in one you hunker down for a long night.

For the second night in a row, buzzing wakes you. The vibrations sharp and rhythmic against your thigh. Groggy from booze and gossip you dig around your chair. “‘Ello?” You mumble wiping drool from your cheek.

“Ah. My apologies-I forgot about time zones. Would you like me to call you back.” Hanzo. You perk up a little stumbling over your passed out friend to your bedroom door.

“No-no. I wouldn’t want to miss this.” You beam rubbing the sleep from your eyes clicking your door closed softly. The haze of the day prior leaving you with his smooth voice, his soft chuckle in your ear made him feel like he was there. The warm presence on your back instead of your sweat-soaked tank clinging to your frame.

“The same can be said for me- but I really should let you sleep. I merely wanted to hear your voice before my… shift started.” Faintly you could hear the sounds of laughter and clinks of plates in the background.

“Where are you?” You ask beyond curious, hoping for a satisfying answer. He paused again, the sound of merriment and chattering fading into the background. “Breakfast and a shift change. It was my turn to cook along with a friend. He had an idea for a 'traditional American breakfast'. It is very hearty, the others are excited. I expect I'll have heartburn for the next week now.”

“Aww! You’ve never made me breakfast!” Ah shit. “Not that that’s a problem!” You backpedal. “Life is hectic and we both have hard schedules.” Silence. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that.”

Hanzo shushed you gently over the phone. “No, you are more than within your right. I do not do all that I would like with you, yet you set aside time for me every time you can.” You snort into dead air. It wasn’t that hard for you, Tabatha all but forced you to take weekends off from work.

“It’s ok. Don’t make it feel like a duty, love. I just… wish we could do more couple like stuff you know?” You twine your fingers feeling childish for even complaining.

“I understand that feeling, I have been neglectful. Allow me to make it up to you?” You hum faking thinking hard on your answer. “ Darling.” Your chuckle behind you hand practically hearing the pout on his elegant face. He continues with a huff. “After this assignment I’ll ask for personal leave. A few weeks perhaps? We can do whatever.”

“I like the sound of that.”

#overwatch #hanzo shimada #hanzo x reader #overwatch fanfic

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overwatch-imagines-hub · 8 years ago

Note

It's finals week for me and I'm stressing big time. Can I get some fluff/cuddle imagines for poly roadrat, and poly mchanzo if it's not too much?

For you, to clear your stress (I wish you the best of luck on your finals!!), and for me, to cure my cold, and for everyone else, to feel amused at our problems but also to feel fluffy and warm inside because poly cuddles are great.

Tbh, I just want a big boyfriend, a small boyfriend, and a girlfriend. Is that too much for a polyamorous person to ask?

I’ll tell ya. Yes. Yes it is. Apparently.

Moving on. I love your username. (I also said so in the tags.)

~~~

Roadrat

You both cuddle up on Roadhog’s belly

But y’all share a bath or a shower first, as to not get your cuddle supplies all dirty

Jamison probably encourages onesie-wearing but there’s not a onesie big enough for Mako, so Jamie either tries to make one or the large piggy wears sweats

Movie/TV binging (usually provided by you) and loads of junk food (provided by them)

No food-shaming here

Eat to your heart’s content

Usually cartoons or animated movies unless you can convince Jamison to agree to watch something else

Roadhog will cut you both off if either of you start complaining about stomachaches though

If this happens, he’ll probably rub and kiss your belly/bellies (if the same happens to Jamie) to make you feel better

Roadhog always has one hand on you and the other on Jamison

Usually on your butts, if the reach is possible (ex. y’all are curled up on your sides against this big beautiful man)

Furniture forts

Pillow Pets

Plushy piles

Being wrapped up in sleeping bag burritos

Roadhog nose boops

Jamison smooches

Whenever he gets the chance to tbh

Lots of Jamison smooches and squeezes and touching for both you and Roadhog

Jamie’s a very touchy, squeezy person

And he’s just excited about the experience in general

Pecious man-boy bean

Roadhog’s smooches are less frequent and usually only happen during breaks but he always gives plenty of nuzzles to make up for it

He always wears his hair down when you guys are just chilling out at home

Also that hand is always holding you or squishing you or rubbing its way along your body, so he’s definitely not lacking affection at any point in time

At times he’ll nuzzle your head or ear and make little snorty piggy noises at you

Or he’ll nuzzle a pig plushie against your cheek and snort

Jamison might copy him just to make you giggle

Mako laughs and gets so happy if you do it back

Y’all will probably end up falling asleep after like twelve movies/seasons and then sleep for like six more hours

Or the boys will, at least

Roadhog sleep-snorts

Jamie mumbles and drools a bit

McHanzo

Lord, fucking help me please I want to be sandwiched between these two men; not even sexually just let me be snuggled between the two of them please and thanks

One’s on either side of you at all times

Bigger couches need to exist/be bought for times like these

Y’all will just lay somewhere like that for hours

Bed, floor, couch, patio, porch swing, backyard, wherever the fuck you feel like

Hanzo’s hands usually end up roaming your body and playing with your clothes while Jesse’s constantly playing with your hair

Competitive kissing

Hanzo kisses your neck, Jesse kisses your jaw, cheek, and nose

Jesse kisses your hairline, Hanzo kisses all the way down the side of your face

Hanzo kisses you, Jesse kisses harder

Simultaneous neck kisses on either side of your neck

It’s a dizzying experience, really

Could this lead to you three doin’ the fukk, who knows?

They’re both competitive boys

You three will usually just cuddle someplace in silence but every once in a while you and Jesse can convince Hanzo to join for a cuddle pile while watching musicals

Hanzo’s critical about just about everything you and Jesse pick out to watch though

He’ll end up picking the movies instead

He doesn’t pick too bad of movies

He’s actually one hell of an oldies/classics nerd

Jesse, stay away from the fU C K iNg Westerns goddammit

You get your choice of wearing Jesse’s hat or serape

Hanzo usually gets the other

Sometimes all three of you will share the serape

Sometimes Jesse’s in the middle because A) He’s the biggest B) He’s a natural heater and C) Just don’t give a fuck however you lay on top of, next to, or wrapped around him

Hanzo’s kind of picky and a bit claustrophobic, so he doesn’t do the middle often; he likes having a free side

Unless he’s in a bad mood; then smother the grumpy ninja boy

The noodle dragons usually join in on these cuddles

They each pick either you or McCree to cling to or they wrap around both of you

Dragon pillows

Dragon scarves

Hanzo usually ends up with dragon tails in his face

He gets a bit jealous of his dragons and depending on his mood he’ll shoo them away

Again, smother him if this happens

Jesse will probably be the one to suggest forts, pillow fights, and onesies

Hanzo will engage in only the fort building

And the pillow fights

But if those to really start, you usually end up watching from the sidelines and eating popcorn while they wrestle around for a while

They’ll stop eventually, after falling off or hitting their head on some piece of furniture

If this goes on too long, they’ll apologize and make it up to you by smothering you is scratchy facial hair kisses and getting you your favorite treats

Literally hotheaded teenagers in scruffy men’s bodies

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comfort-blankets · 7 years ago

Text

*Scenario*

Genji/McCree with an S/O with absolutely downright terrible insomnia? How would they go about helping their S/O?

Heya!! I’m alive again everyone, and hopefully I’ll be able to keep up with my schedule again now that finals have finally ended and I survived. I actually loved this prompt because while I don’t have insomnia, I usually end up staying up very late because I’m too anxious too fall asleep. Turns out all I needed to do was get off my butt and make some tea to chill out, but insomnia obviously isn’t that easy.

Hope you enjoy these scenarios my friend! And I also hope the s/o likes tea, because that’s what I’m making them drink ahaaa <3

*If I get anything about the prompt incorrect or you find that it wasn’t what you were looking for, then please let me know and I’ll try my best to fix any mistakes in writing!

Jesse McCree:

You did not bother to lay in bed awake anymore, as the false hope had already been drained out of you long ago.

The prolonged amount of time you spent watching the red lit up numbers in the darkened room rolled on, and your thoughts were too jumbled up to even think of relaxing down again for sleep. So, you moved your gaze around the room to take in your surroundings.

You and Jesse had been immensely tired when you came home from a quick two day mission, barely getting dinner in before passing out on the rickety bed. Your memory was fuzzy on how you ended up asleep, and vaguely wondering whether or not you passed right as you hit the sheets. At least Jesse had found enough time to snuggle into you during the process, his hat strewn over half his face and hair in such a manner that was silly.

Then again, he always was a cuddler. Perhaps he’d just moved to embrace you as he shifted to get comfortable.

The red covers that surrounded you felt too stuffy, warmth coming onto skin that wasn’t welcome. You had to carefully peel them off of you without disturbing the man clutching to your waist from behind. Two hands. He forgot to take off his prosthetic again.

Jesse’s room was clean ever since you’d moved your own items into it, but there were little piles of wrappers or unlit cigars laying here and there. From the small window came little slats of light from the moon that bounced off the walls through the blinds, tiny dust particles catching your attention.

You were too tired to try and grab one.

The closet door was only hiding a mess from within, your row of hung up clothing being neat, as your boyfriend’s side being messier. Some jackets weren’t even fully hung up, and would it kill him to buy anything other than flannels and Southern joke shirts from time to time? Not that you were complaining, but last time you both went somewhere fancy for two days in a row he seemed to have no shame in only owning one nice suit.

But that would be like asking Jesse to stop being Jesse, and that was simply unacceptable.

Removing his prosthetic was easy ever since he taught you, using gentle fingers to press certain parts of the mechanical arm until it came off. It was just as heavy as it looked, cold metal gleaming in blue light, and you had to use both hands to sit up and place it on the bedside table. His hat was plucked off his face as you rose, already planning on going to the kitchen anyways. Hanging it up along the way wouldn’t be too much trouble.

And so the sheets were pulled up to apply comfort to him, and a pillow in his arms masked your unknown absence. There was a hat hung up on the wall once the bedroom door silently shut.

The base in Gibraltar was a work in progress, but the love from the people around you slowly nursed it back to health. Just a few days ago before the mission’s departure, Mei and Hanzo had helped you clean up one of the lounging rooms to turn into a movie area. Mei had always been so eager to show her favorite films, lighthearted as they came, and Hanzo had been brought in slowly and surely with the promise of good company. He had even shown a few movies from time to time that he clearly liked himself, and the three of you would laugh over his comedies excessively. Who knew that such a serious man had such a good sense of humor? It had been about time you made that room.

Of course, Jesse had suddenly taken a liking to the room as well once it was up and running, and proposed watching a few Western classics. It took everything you had and more not to burst out laughing at Hanzo’s murderous expression.

The halls were dark and quiet, but the memory of your friends had left you chuckling to yourself as you entered the kitchen, bare feet feeling cooler on the tile. The light was nearly blinding. Hanzo had promised more tea today since he was off of work and could go to the store, knowing how much it helped you during the long nights. It was a silent but caring gesture, one he’d act like took the world to even get himself thinking about later on. Everyone can tell he doesn’t mean it.

“So much matcha…” you had mumbled, flipping through several packets of them before taking entire boxes of it out of the tea drawer all together. Well, no use wondering what Hanzo’s favorite tea was anymore.

Green tea, white tea, earl grey, black…

Chamomile.

Jesse always thought it was cute that you called chamomile tea ‘sleepy tea’ rather than the real thing. Hanzo’s eyebrows had just about hit his hairline right when he heard you say it for the first time. He obviously wasn’t annoyed by it though, or he’d speak his mind. Big mouth, he had. Probably just next in line with McCree’s. Or maybe even Lena’s.

The water heated in an automatic kettle, the only noises in the room being the sound of bubbling hot water and heavy footsteps from the hallways.

Footsteps?

You had nearly jumped to the roof when you felt an arm wrap around your middle, the startled squeak from your throat amusing your holder endlessly. It was a deep, grumbly chuckle that vibrated against your back, and you knew who it was the moment you felt the shaggy hair on your shoulder.

“Thought you could trick me, didn’ ya? Gonna take more than a pillow for convincing me you’re still there.”

Jesse.

“You forgot to take off your arm again. You’re lucky I woke up, or else you would’ve had to deal with all those blisters on your own.” The water gurgled in it’s confinements, and you fetched a cup from the cabinet right above you before moving to pour the hot liquid into the freedom on an awaiting mug.

“Aww, it’s like you care about lil’ ol’ me,” the hand on your side moved to your stomach, and the man pressed himself more securely against your back. He only placed the slightest bit of his weight on you though, an act you could see was done in care. “You gotta crush on me, sweetheart?”

The kettle was returned to it’s place, and a little bag of herbs was gently set inside the steaming cup. You took this time to turn around with a little smile, wrapping your arms around Jesse’s neck to pull the two of you together. He looked tired. You had a feeling you should play in this little game he’s created.

“And what if I do find you a looker?” Your voice sounded softly in the silence, despite there being nobody to wake so closely that you’d need to whisper. A mischievous and low tone, like the very pinnacle of quietness would be offended by your normal speaking voice.

McCree pretended to gasp in surprise, pressing both of your foreheads together to bring you closer. The action left you snorting out a giggle, his facial expression too much for you to keep up your side of the scene.

“Well, I’ll be. Never knew I’d reel in such a gorgeous face.” His eyes grew kind, and you could see that he was no longer feigning seriousness when he asked you, “What’s a darlin’ like you doin’ all alone in a place like this?”

Jesse never really showed this softer side of him unless you were by yourselves, a gentle curve to a usually rough face letting his concern be seen. There was a little twinkle in his eye as he looked at you. It was then a realization had taken over that the cowboy had been swaying your bodies together slowly as you stood there.

Comfort.

He never woke up this late without a good reason, and slept too hard to be woken up by your movements.

“I should be asking you that, Jesse. You already know why I’m here,” You could feel his cheek forming into a smile when you leaned over to press a light kiss to it, and you could feel the way he pressed back into your nuzzle against the side of his head. He preened under your attention, humming before you were able to continue, “Did you have The Dream again?”

The first few times you’d caught him down here with you and said that he’d stiffened, but as time got around he slowly began to turn to jelly at your understanding. His fingers shook a little over your back, and the next breath he let out was shaky.

“Yeah.”

A short answer for such a mouthy man.

The two of you had spent a few more comfortable minutes holding each other, you petting at his disheveled hair and him leaning his forehead on your shoulder to let you do so easier. He rested his eyes and focused on breathing, your heartbeat a good coach for his own.

When you finally pulled apart, you knew he’d sought you out for this exact reason. He’d probably had an attack before he came for your comfort, your poor boyfriend not having you to help him in his time of need.

There was that mutual understanding, and yet you did not speak it.

“Hey, why don’t you go pick an Old Western in the movie room while I get us some popcorn?” You asked, your hand brushing over the cheek you just kissed. The skin there was rough from lessened care and a rather unruly beard. He seemed relieved at your suggestion, eyes settling closed in a relaxed state, and you could tell that the two of you would be doing another all-nighter. Moving his face so his lips brushed against your palm, he kissed down to your wrist while mumbling.

“Make me a hot coco too?”

Your kind chuckle filled him with warmth.

“Of course.”

Genji Shimada:

You had been laying here for a long time.

The clock ticked very slowly in your opinion, and in the darkness you could barely see that the hands pointed out it was two in the morning. There was a softly snoring cyborg sprawled across half of your body, uncovered face pressing firmly into your shoulder and looking perfectly content. Usually you’d get up slowly to go get some tea and relax on one of the many balconies of the Gibraltar Base, but Genji was such a light sleeper whenever he managed to do so, and you really didn’t want to disturb that. Even shuffling into a different position has him grunting and whining, trying to find somewhere else warm to press his face into your skin.

Luckily, tonight the cyborg decided he wants to flop onto the other side of the bed, moving with the sheets in waves. The covers were a total mess compared to the rest of the room. It seems Genji never really outgrew how he used to sleep when he was younger, had he? Everything else he did was with such gracefulness, even the cleaning of his living area.

The room was almost barren compared to everyone else’s. If someone were to come in and try to decide who’s room it was, they’d probably think it was your’s. It was really only your items that were placed here and there with precision on the counters and bedside tables, some of them moved slightly throughout the evenings since Genji insisted on dusting and sweeping everyday. He had travelled lightly for such a long time though, so it makes sense that he didn’t have much, but you occasionally pulled him along with you to the store to grab a few cute decoratives for your room.

And because of the small amount of little knick knacks on top of the old dresser from this, you could recall each one’s story. An old stone wrapped with a silver dragon, settled upon it in rest. That one you got in San Francisco from a quaint, magical themed store. A small bunny figurine, a soft baby pink color. It was a gift from Hana, for the lessons in aim for her little deadly pistol. The antique Shimada family’s dragon pipe. Formerly Hanzo’s, a housewarming gift that was meant with good intentions, but incredibly awkward when presented with. His brother didn’t seem the type to give gifts, so you could only credit him for trying his best.

The closet was your own because the only space he needed in there were a few shelves to hold onto boxes of different armor. He always pulled out all your clothes in groups if they’d been in there for more than a week for washing, along with all your dirty ones as well. You’d chastised him for babying you too much and not splitting the work with you, but he said he enjoyed how calming it was to get it done. So you supposed that was just how it was going to be. At least your clothes smelled amazing all the time.

Getting off of the bed silently was already a miracle to behold, because usually he’d peek up at the softest of sounds. The moment you were able to sit up you slipped on some socks to mask your footsteps a bit before rising. The groan of the bed was loud in contrast to the silence, and you held your breath for the noise of Genji’s stirring.

No offended sheets shuffled in your waking.

The clock on the bedside table beside you ticked softly.

The movement of the small fan above the bed whirred in the darkness.

You had escaped the snuggly grasp of one of the best assassins on the planet.

Or had you?

“Why are you up so late?” The voice still had a metallic undertone to it, even when the owner wasn’t wearing his visor. But as nice as it was to hear it, you hadn’t meant to wake your boyfriend, knowing he’d probably opened his eyes the moment you’d shifted beneath the blankets. You could hear him now, the metal of his body scraping against the sheets as he moved forward to press his face into your back. Two arms locked securely around your ribs.

You could never escape the snuggly grasp of one of the best assassins on the planet.

A breathy laugh bubbled from your throat, and you placed your hands to rest on top of his own. Genji already knew why you were awake, he always did.

He also knew why you’d try to sneak away whenever this happened, too.

“I was about to go get some tea.”

You could feel him hum against your back in acknowledgement, nodding even though you could only feel it on the pressure of your shirt.

“And not invite me? I’ve been told that I’m the life of the party.”

“How many parties have you even gone to, Genji?”

A light scoff, a puff of warm breath through the cloth of your top, “What, are you suggesting I was the loser of the school? My own sweetheart, not even aware of how cool I really am.”

“Maybe not a loser, but you definitely got the prize for world’s biggest dork.”

“This is ridiculous. If we had known each other back then you’d be crawling all over me.”

“Are you looking to woo me, playboy?”

“Perhaps. I may even put down my lifestyle for a bit to enjoy your company.”

“Generous of you. We can meet over a cup of tea.”

The laugh that came from the cyborg was so genuine and snorty, that you could only wonder if he was pulling your leg about the whole ‘playboy past’ thing. But who knows, Genji was always good at acting. A skill he was often praised for through his work in Blackwatch before the explosion.

“Let us go now then.”

Walking to the kitchen with Genji was almost a nightly occurrence by now, when your sleep ran away from you and your thoughts took you to different places. However, nothing will ever beat the familiarity of the low green lights from his body bouncing against the darkened walls of the hallways, lighting your way with his hand grasping your’s. These little meetings that you had were almost like a necessity by now. With nobody else on base to disturb or separate you two, only your giggles echoing through otherwise empty rooms as you found a nice place to settle down.

This time, Genji led you to an easily accessible spot on one of the roof’s of the buildings, stars twinkling overhead. When you’d had trouble climbing one of the crates to scale the structure, he’d taken it upon himself to lift you up there. Your surprise yell at his sudden grabbing made you both pause for only a moment to see if anyone had awoken through dark tinted windows, before snickering in the shadows as you continued on. It felt like being a teenager again, running off out the window in a cliche movie to go on a date with a boy you probably shouldn’t be seeing. It made you feel so young.

It made you feel alive.

Genji was the one to run off and get the supplies for your late night picnic, the several bags of junk food, blankets, and various electronics being passed up to you to sort out. In the end, you and the younger Shimada ended up curling together under the night sky, stars winking down at your nest of blankets and snacks.

The tea was tucked into it’s own little cup holder, cyborg too busy trying to give you a kiss for you to notice it’s steam wavering in the cold air.

A movie’s plot buzzed on in the background, hologram screen from a small device all but forgotten.

There you would eventually find rest again, the moon the only witness to both of your indulgent eating and sickening sweet attention. A cold, metal hand would feel comforting when it brushed the skin of your high cheekbone.

And then Genji would carefully pick you up from your spot to tuck you back into the warm bed you previously did not desire.

#imagine #scenario #Genji Shimada #Jesse McCree #insomnia #fanfic

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drivelings · 7 years ago

Text

63.

「Sapporo, please.」

“Water.”

The two men waited in silence for their respective drinks to come. They sat side by side at the counter in the furthest seats away from the door with a great view of the dinky ramen shack that could barely seat ten people. One was obviously a foreigner to this place. The other patron was obviously from the area, dressed in nothing but jinbei, and personally greeted by the shopkeeper warmly in his thick dialect (「Welc--oh! So-chan, long time! How are th'boys?」)

Their drinks were placed in front of them not too long, and they each took a pull, relishing in the relief the liquids brought them in this humid weather. The cicadas were loud, and combined their voices with the cheap electrical fan overhead, almost enough to make up for the simmering silence in the shop. Though, one of the patrons decided that cicadas make for terrible conversationalists, and that perhaps the man next to him would be better.

“Are you a perhaps a tourist?” Sojiro asked coolly in near perfect English, eyes crinkling in mirth. Gabriel’s eyes swept the shop before focusing on the man. There were very few who would know English in this part of town. Both were able to speak freely in this nearly abandoned shop. The shopkeep himself was tending to his broth unhurriedly.

Gabriel took a sip of his water, condensation already forming on the side from the hot summer air.

“Yeah, something like that. You a local?”

“Something like that,” he repeated cheekily. Gabriel snorted. His new friend had a sense of humor.

“Are you here for business, then?”

The air shifted briefly when Sojiro said that, and Gabriel had to grin. It reeked of danger and shady dealings. “I’m just here for…sight-seeing. Heard that Hanamura was quite...magical this time of year.”

Sojiro mirrored his expression, a knowing look in his eyes. “Of course. Hanamura is very beautiful. You’ve come at a good time, friend.” He jerked a chin at the shopkeeper behind the counter.

「Koma-chan!」

「Ay, So-chan? What can I do fer ya?」

「My new friend here wants your Tonkotsu special. Double eggs, extra firm noodles, make them wavy. Oh, and don’t forget the garlic. Two heads of it.」

With a knowing nod, and a curt, 「Sure thin’,」 the shopkeeper clicked off the fire to his broth, provided the two a pitcher of water to drink at their leisure, and disappeared into the back, leaving the two customers by their lonesome. The lights above their heads flicked momentarily, and a dull buzzing current that Gabriel could feel crawling up the back of his bare neck. Neither of the patrons moved until they could hear the wooden door to the shop click shut, and a body leaning heavily against it--basic assurance that no one will come in.

In the privacy of the shop guarded by a man who’s paid to keep secrets, both men were able to drop their pretenses.

"Where are my noodles, Shimada?" Gabriel gestured grandly at the kitchen just behind the bar table they sat at. “You promised me noodles when I got here.”

Sojiro laughed out loud. "You'll get them, Reyes-san. Where is your hat?”

The Blackwatch commander ran a hand over his bare head, seeming annoyed now that he was reminded that he was bereft of his signature beanie. “At home getting tossed ‘round like a toy by some ingrate. Probably.”

The Japanese man had to raise an eyebrow at that. “Oh? A dog, is it?”

The image of Jesse McCree as a dog--the correct analog was a roadside mutt, really--wasn’t entirely wrong, but Gabriel waved it off. “Something like that. But enough of this bull.”

“Yes,” Sojiro said coolly. “Welcome to my Hanamura, I am very pleased you were able to make it.”

The possessiveness does not go unnoticed—a dual invitation and a threat.

“’was getting tired of talking to you through stupid cigarette paper.” From one of his inner pockets, Gabriel tossed out a rolled up piece of scrap onto the table, which Sojiro picked up, rolling it between his thumb and forefinger, amused.

“I had assumed you liked my style. Apologies.” The paper disappeared into the inside of Sojiro’s sleeves as he crossed his arms.

Gabriel snorted in disbelief. “If you were really sorry, you’d get your ass on one of our comms already and not send one of your mechanical birds. You’re a damn hack, Shimada,” he said, pounding the table just once to get his point across.

“You flatter me.”

“That ain’t a compliment.”

“Then I’m afraid I misunderstood.” He pressed a mocking hand to his heart. “Forgive the ignorance of this old man.”

While the runaround was annoying, Gabriel could appreciate the sarcasm, it’s much better than listening to the straight-laced Jack Morrison all day. “Just get on with it. You said you had a favor to ask Blackwatch?”

“Ah, yes.”

Sojiro leaned against the bar counter with one elbow, suddenly donning the posture of one more fitting of his actual position. Comfortable, unhurried, but menacing. “But first, allow me to tell you the tale passed down from our family throughout the generations.”

The Blackwatch commander drained the last of his water, and waved the bottom of it at him, willing him to continue. He had a feeling that he’d be forced to hear it whether he wanted to or not.

“My family tells of an ancient legend about two great dragon brothers...”

By the time the story was over, Gabriel was leaned over the counter, his palm digging another crater-sized dimple into his face. "And? What does that have to do with your clan?"

“We, the Shimada clan, descended from those dragons," he paused, looking thoughtful for a moment before he looked at Gabriel with a mischievous glint in his eyes, "or so it's said. Though, some have interpreted the story to mean that the two dragons were once the rulers of the Shimada clan. When the Dragon of the North killed his younger brother, he did not fall to the ground. He fell on a Shimada."

The image of a multi-ton mythical snake falling onto some poor soul made Gabriel laugh out loud, and he slapped the table, shaking the empty glasses in his mirth. Sojiro was not particularly bothered by this, and let him laugh it out--he's dealt with worse, he has two sons that could disappear at a moment's notice (one of which does it on a nearly bi-hourly basis).

Gabriel finally calmed down after a couple of minutes, he was clutching his stomach, tears at the corner of his eyes. By that time, Sojiro has already drained the last of his alcohol. "That's hilarious, Shimada."

His lips quirked upward and he shrugged far more casually than a man who just had his family legacy laughed at should. "There's more--"

"Did he fall on more than one?"

"--to this theory. When the elder Dragon was asked to descend, he did not descend onto any land, but into a Shimada. Possessed a human body."

"That interpretation's a stretch, isn't it?"

Sojiro shrugged again. "Regardless, these dragons are in our family. And the Shimadas have the ability to control them."

"And? If you have those mythical dragons running around, why do you need our help?"

Sojiro laughed humorlessly. "Because, Mr. Reyes, you are a smart man. You should understand."

"Flaterry gets you nowhere, Shimada. I'm not making my people do your dirty work for you."

"I understand that, and this request is not without adequate compensation."

Sojiro poured water into Gabriel’s empty glass and then into his own. Gabriel watched quietly as the man turned away from him and ran a hand through his hair slowly, the streaks of grey a testament to how difficult his life must have been. The man’s chest expanded with a deep breath, unwilling to actually sigh, before he faced the Blackwatch commander again.

“They killed my wife, Reyes-san,” Sojiro said solemnly. “Now they seek to kill me to control my sons.”

His eyebrow raised. “The news said she died due to heart failure.” Not that Gabriel believed everything he heard in the news, but he was admittedly not very concerned with Japanese politics at the time. The Shimadas always kept their affairs to Japanese soil, though there were always rumors of the clan being seen in various areas of South and East Asia.

The widower scoffed, downing his new glass of water as though it’ll cleanse him of this reality.

“They lie,” Sojiro huffed bitterly. “They killed her. Because she was a strong woman. She frightened the clan elders.” A flash of fondness crossed his face. “She was beautiful. Powerful. But then…”

He gnashed his teeth, and Gabriel could’ve sworn he was imagining it, but something beneath the clan leader’s clothes seemed to glow. “The filthy cowards. They thought I would not discover it.”

“Discover what?”

“They did something to her. She was different.” The older man’s hazel eyes became hard, glaring holes into the wooden counter. “It was still my wife, but she—she began to lose sight of herself. She looked the same, but she...”

He shook his head roughly. “I do not know what happened, but only that the clan elders were responsible.”

“You said something about killing you to control your sons?”

“Yes, yes.” He waved a hand, nonchalant, as if his life was a trivial matter. “My sons are still young.

“In the case of my eldest, Hanzo, I’m afraid his burden is a much heavier destiny than he can bear.”

“Do you know our clan’s symbol?”

He’s seen it several times before in pictures of the mobster in the reports he’s given occasionally. Sojiro normally wore it proudly on his back during the day, unlike now, in an unassuming set of the equivalent of lounging clothes. The two dragons like an ouroboros–eating the other rather than itself. Normally, an ouroboros signifies the cycle of creation and life, all as one. Ana had taught this to him before among other things during their times of idle.

But two of of them trying to eat the other? Gabriel could fathom a guess, but he’s sure it’d be a poor one. He’s not much for this sort of philosophical thinking. (It was honestly more of the space gorilla’s favorite pastime.)

“It is rare that both dragons, North and South, are born together in the same generation.” Sojiro swirled his glass, the water formed a mini-tornado within. “It was supposed to be joyous. The strongest generation, the elders claimed. Finally, the two dragon brothers have been reunited.”

“But there is a problem.”

“My son, Hanzo, has two dragons.”

The meaningful look Sojiro gave him forced the truth upon him so quickly, he got figurative whiplash.

“So they only require one of them, then.”

Sojiro’s eyes were downcast, the grip on his empty glass so tight, it was clattering against the table. “Once they have Hanzo, they will have no need for Genji.”

“Didn’t know the dragon legend had a third brother.”

“It is because Genji still has a use that the clan elders wants him dead.”

It would be easy for another faction to challenge Hanzo’s legitimacy. Hanzo may have two dragons, but they could argue it’s the result of some defect—one dragon split into two. It’s a stretch, but a very compelling possibility. Genji, on the other hand, is whole. If a branch family were to rally behind Genji and claim him as the true heir, the clan elders would either be forced to recognize it or forced to have a civil war. Neither options were desireable.

Genji, from Sojiro’s account, is a force of nature; untameable and unflappable. A cheeky young thing with no regards toward tradition or hierarchy. A walking nightmare for a band of traditionalists stewing in their own filth they call “order”.

“Should you really be leaving your sons alone, then?”

“My eldest cousin, Asahi, is guarding my youngest, Genji. My other cousin, is guarding Hanzo. I trust them both to watch over my sons properly.”

Gabriel took a contemplative sip of water, staring off into space. “Cousins, huh? So they’re branch members?”

The unspoken implication hung heavily over their heads, but Sojiro responded, “Reyes-san. I trust them.”

“Glad someone does.”

It’s not unheard of for the branch members of a family in the middle of a power struggle to take sides or drastic measures. It’s natural, even. Some members may even want to lay claim to the Head seat themselves. But the case of the Shimadas, whose worth was determined by the family’s dragons, they could only make due with manipulating the leader. He’s seen more than his fair share of skirmishes over seats of power.

“Great, now that you’re lying in bed with Talon, now you want out? You’re more sentimental than I thought, for a mobster.”

“Reyes-san. I must fulfill my duties, but that does not mean my sons must suffer the consequences. I will not be like my father.”

“How laughable. The head of the Shimada clan–ruler of all Hanamura–can’t even protect his own children,” Sojiro spat out bitterly. “It is shameful for me to ask an outsider this, but…”

Gabriel did not expect the man to suddenly get on his hands and knees, pressing his forehead to the ground. “Please, protect my sons. I beg you as the father of these two children, please.”

“Get up, Shimada.” Despite his words, the Blackwatch commander was already trying to pull him up. This look does not suit the head of the Shimada empire. Such a powerful man grovelling at his feet when he was only stomping around on things unmentionable just the week before was unsettling.

He assigned you to Hanamura under the pretense that you will be gathering information about their arms trade by becoming the bodyguard of a Shimada heir. You will get close to them, get them to divulge their secrets. While it’s true that the Shimadas were involved in the exchange of weaponry, he did not disclose to you the real reason—it’s better if you didn’t know. You will protect them anyway, keep an eye on both brothers regardless.

After all, it goes without saying that in order to fool your enemies, you must first fool your allies.

The implant goes without a hitch, at least, from his part.

Sojiro continued to communicate with him through the tiny scrolls delivered by his robotic birds—entirely indistinguishable from ordinary ones. His coded messages were short, but expressed his gratitude and trepidation.

The news of Sojiro’s death does not surprise him.

Gabriel carefully considered your words. If you were to leave, there’d be no one around to report on either Shimada brother. It was hard enough for Sojiro to get you accepted in their fold, and it wouldn’t do to waste such an opportunity.

But on the other hand, the oligarchy surrounding the new Shimada head would be considerably less caution if the outsider finally leaves their midst. Their guard might even be down for a short while after, and there’d most likely be a shift in responsibilities which meant a short window of opportunity.

It might be worth taking this chance.

“Jack, we’re storming Hanamura.”

“What? Gabe! We don’t have jurisdiction over Japan! What are you thinking?”

“

Moments of silence later, Jack heaved a shuddering sigh. Gabriel could just imagine the man rubbing his forehead, trying to formulate a speech for the media when this all goes to hell in a hand basket. “When?”

“A week from now. Dead of night.”

Little did he know, a week from now, they’d be storming Hanamura for very different reasons.

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