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yandere-genji · 2 years ago

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Yandere mcree dirty starter request number 13 plz.

(Just a note, I am still getting used to the whole “Cole Cassidy” timeline we are living in. I wrote the draft with jesse mccree so pls forgive any discrepancies.)

#13: “You’ve been so good lately, my pet. Don’t make me have to punish you.”

“Sit,” Cassidy pulled the collar of your shirt and pushed you onto the floor. The floor was hard and cold from the winter frost, which you couldn’t escape from being so high in the mountains. You hated the cold. Hated having to huddle as close to the fireplace as you possibly could just to escape the freezing temperature permeating through the log cabin. The winds whistled too loud as they picked up mists of white snow from the ground. You really did not like the mountains. If you had your pick, you would stay with Cassidy at the nice shack he had just outside of Santa Fe, but you never did have a choice in the matter. Whenever he went, you were expected to follow.

He must’ve been tired, too, though he never showed it. So you leaned into him, looked up at him through pleading eyes. You didn’t dare say a word, but Cassidy understood what you wanted to say.

But he couldn’t rest. Not yet. There was business he had to attend to and time is money. So he gave you a sympathetic smile and removed his hand from your cheek. You missed the warmth of his touch but you were content to be dismissed, “I’ll be back soon. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m out, or there will be hell to pay.”

There wasn’t much to say. You nodded compliantly and Cassidy headed out the door. Alone again. This time he didn’t need to restrain you. Any town would be miles away and the terrain was difficult. So you were stuck to your own devices in the meantime.

‘I’ll be back soon,’ he had said. Soon was very subjective to Cassidy, you had learned. Soon could mean a few hours or a few days. He was an honest man, usually, but never when he spoke those words. Perhaps he said that to keep you on your best behavior lest he catch you in some mischief.

But the mountains made you miserable and drove you mad with boredom. He knew it, too. Most of your worst fits happened there. Rummaging through his work equipment, sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong, and picking quarrels with Cole in your irritable state. It never ended well, either. Especially when you were defiant with him, it wore his patience paper thin.

“You’d be wise to behave,” he warned, “you’ve been so good lately, pumpkin. Don’t make me have to punish you.”

Even though his words repeated themselves in your head, your mind wandered. Not only did the boredom tempt you to misbehave, but you would do anything to keep your mind from thinking about whatever Cassidy was up to now. You knew he made a living from catching (and often killing) outlaws. It was dangerous and if anything happened to him… You didn’t want to think about that. But every second he was gone was a risk and you worried tirelessly, feeling even more trapped.

You sat up and made your way towards the window besides the front door. It had stopped snowing and you managed to get a clearer view of the land. The cabin was atop a steep side of the mountain, there was hardly any area in front of the house, save for a small shed holding Lord knows what. The moonlight reflected off the icy snow. Specks of snow glittered from the refraction of the light. It was mesmerizing. You wanted to run out into the snow, feel the crunching beneath your feet. Maybe make a snowman or a fort. Like you were a little kid.

But it was freezing. And Cassidy would kill you. His number one rule was to never leave the house without him. It seemed like in that since you were still like a little kid.

Your boots were right beside you, still wet around the soles. They seemed dry in the inside and so did your coat hanging beside the door. You had a pair of gloves inside the pockets. Cassidy hadn’t left long ago. So if you spent a few minutes outside, he wouldn’t know, right? But he would definitely notice your footprints in the snow. There was the back door. What’re the odds he would be going through there? Zero to none, you calculated based on no evidence whatsoever.

Just a moment wouldn’t hurt. You just wanted to play around with something other that the fire iron or whatever old books were laying around.

You put on your winter outfit and headed towards the back door, careful not to leave a trail behind. You looked out the window, peering over the terrain. There wasn’t much besides the mountain walls and a few feet of snowy ground. And your heart was racing. Since when had you been so scared? The mountains really had a strange effect on you.

Cold air was seeping through the door and you raised a gloved hand to feel it. Your gloves protected your skin from the chill and your body remained warm in your coat. The cabin was barely warm and you relied most on the fireplace for comfort. Your winter clothing would do just as much for you outdoors as the fireplace would inside.

Throwing caution to the wind, you eagerly opened the door and leapt onto the snowy ground. A thick sheet of snow caught you, enveloping your body in an icy embrace. You smiled and lifted yourself from the snow. The only light was from the moon and the dim porch light from the cabin. Dark forest surrounded you, absolutely silent.

You sat in the snow for a bit, holding your knees to your chest. It was a picturesque view with the snow innocently covering the woods like a christmas postcard. You tried to make out whatever you could through the shadows of trees and bushes, but nothing seemed to come of it. Imagine what could be hiding in there.

Cassidy kept a book of all the plants and animals in the areas he frequented. He always knew what something was when you asked him and was happy to explain it to you. If he were here, you could ask him to take a walk in the forest with you, show you all the animals and keep you protected from the nasty ones. But he wasn’t. In that moment, you felt too vulnerable and ran back inside the cabin, suddenly aware of how flimsy the back door was.

Everything was so quiet. The sound of you unzipping your coat was like a scream. You knew there were bears in the mountain. What if something saw you and decided to make you it’s prey? What could you do? You were unarmed and alone. Cassidy must not have even been gone longer than an hour.

You knew you weren’t supposed to, but you were scared. You didn’t know what was out there. And you had already broken one rule without getting caught. So you made you way to the bedroom and rummaged through Cassidy’s work equipment. He hadn’t even locked his suitcase, to your surprise, sending a pang of guilt through your heart realizing how much he was beginning to trust you. But you could be in danger.

Past the various bullets, a bandolier, and case of cigars was the very journal he had kept. Your face grew red with shame knowing you were violating his privacy. But it was only a silly little book that would hopefully prepare you for the potentially dangerous circumstances in which Cassidy had abandoned you at in the first place. There was a little map, marked with location names and page numbers.

A thud. Outside, near the back door. Your heart beat fast and you froze. That could be one of two things, and both spelled bad news for you. Like a bat out of hell, you quickly placed everything back into Cassidy’s suitcase. Your hands were clumsy with fear and you took longer than you would’ve liked but you thankfully had everything in place before being caught by anyone or anything.

You rose from your seated position and peaked out the bedroom door. Nothing. Just as you had left it. You opened it further and stepped out of the room when you were sure nothing was outside. Taking a few steps, you peaked out the front window. No footsteps, no prints of any kind. Maybe the house was just settling. You sighed and backed away from the window.

A strong grip caught your arm and it felt like your back had hit a wall, “Well,” that familiar gruff voice, “what’ve you been up to, little bunny?”

You turned to face Cassidy, making the most pitiful look you could give him. You looked up at him, mouth agape and struggling to respond, “Cas…”

There was something wrong. He was dirty, some reddish-brown stains covered his shirt in splatters. The look in his eyes was nothing short of primal. Aggressive, but not angry. Hungry.

“Best you answer me,” his grip tightened and you gasped in shock, leaning into him, “I ain’t in any mood to play games with you.”

It frightened you to see him like this. Like any misstep you toke would provoke him. Did he know you had deliberately broken his most important rule, or that you were just about to break another before he caught you? Should you play dumb or tell him the truth? He would’ve surely seen your silhouette in the snow if he had come from where the thud was. Even worse, he could read you like a book and knew precisely when you were lying. But you weren’t defenseless. You knew how to play to your strengths.

You swallowed, hesitantly, speaking with the sweet voice that he loved to hear, “I am very sorry, Daddy, I was so lonely without you. I just went outside to play in the snow, but it was too cold and I didn’t stay for long. That’s all, I promise.”

Cassidy hummed in response, low and aloof. His eyes were dark and you couldn’t detect any emotion from him, but a contemplative look. That usually wasn’t a good sign for you. He must’ve been thinking about what he should do with you.

He took your hand in his, raising it to his lips and placing a soft kiss, “You promise, darlin’?”

Something about his tone of voice sent shivers down your spine. It was playful and deliberate. Like he was about to call your bluff. But how could he? So you nodded, “Promise.”

A large, gloved hand squeezed your cheeks and your hands raised to meet his. His grip was tight and unrelenting, “Oh, honey…” he switched his grip from your face to your throat, you let out a choked gasp, “Thought you knew better than to lie to me.”

Your back was against the wall, Cassidy’s hand keeping you in place. You were gasping for air and holding onto his wrist for dear life. Tears rolled down your cheek and your eyes begged for mercy. But you had really fucked up this time. Jesse was already riled up from whatever business he had just returned from and he had warned you not to misbehave or there would be hell to pay. He was just cashing out on his threat.

“I am gettin’ real sick of your bratty attitude,” he loosened his fingers, allowing you to catch your breath, “Look like you need to be taught some fuckin’ manners.”

Your eyes went blurry, you saw only foggy shadows as Cassidy pulled you away from the wall and lifted you over his shoulder. You pleaded with him through choked sobs but your cries fell on deaf ears. All you could feel was the frigid winter air on your skin, leaving the cabin behind while Cassidy carried you into the shed.

“Now don’t you start with me,” he groaned as he sat you on a flimsy wooded workbench, “You need to fucking behave. Take your clothes off.”

It was freezing. You weren’t sure if you were shaking due to fear or the intense cold. You held onto your body, trying to retain any warmth you could, “Please, Cassidy, it’s too cold.”

He laughed, “That certainly didn’t stop you before, sweetheart. Now, strip before I really give you somethin’ to cry about.”

You could hardly feel anything at that point. Completely numb, you complied and disrobed. Cassidy didn’t say anything, just admired you before him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t anticipate having to punish you when he returned. And he was nothing short of eager to take the frustrations of his day out on you. Nothing satisfied him quite like seeing you like this, absolutely terrified and seeking mercy.

Once you were completely bare, he held you by your hips. He squeezed hard, wanting to leave a mark on you. His hands wandered upwards, fondling your body until he held you by the back of your neck.

You couldn’t help the fire that burned between your legs, mindlessly rocking your hips on the abrasive wood of the workbench. Looking at him through wet eyes, you reached out to feel him. He had his winter jacket on, furs draped over his shoulder and making his already towering figure even more menacing. You wanted him to embrace you, to give you the warmth you desperately needed. But he didn’t.

“Nah, baby, I’ve been too kind to you for far too long,” he took your wrist and gripped it with the same strength that he gripped your hips, “You do what you’re told and don’t test my patience, got it?”

You nodded eagerly, desperate to show your capitulation, “Yes, Daddy, I’ll do anything you ask.”

He hummed, pleased with your response, “I know you will, baby.”

But he didn’t give you a command. Instead, he decided to manhandle you himself, flipping you onto your stomach and pinning your arms behind your back. You wanted so badly to rut against him like a bitch in heat, desperate to quell that feeling between your legs but you had to follow his lead. He wanted to see you like this, overstimulated and touch-starved. Serves you right for misbehaving.

His gloves were still on. The fabric was rough against your already sensitive skin. He began kneading the soft skin in between your thighs, it took all of your will not to squeeze them together and fuck yourself into his hand. You behaved, breathing heavily and trying your best to conceal your moans.

“Let me hear you, baby,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard slap, “I want you to lose that sweet voice of yours when I’m done with you.”

Every touch was rough and left a mark on your skin. You cried, moaned, nearly scream as Cassidy abused your body as he pleased. Once he was satisfied, he loomed over your shaken form. His hand made its way to the swell of your ass again and gave it another sharp slap. Your throat was sore but you still managed to whine at the pain. But he wasn’t done with you yet. His thumbs spread you wide open, exposing you to the cold air while your hole was burning from the stretch of Cassidy’s fingers. You knew what he had in mind and tried to prepare yourself mentally for the pain.

You could never be full prepared, however, when Cassidy’s warm cock met with the entrance of your ass. He was far too big to slide into you with any ease, but he choose to stretch you around his cock the best he could anyway. If he had eased into you with his fingers, the burning wouldn’t be so bad, but you couldn’t accommodate his girth and the pain was unbearable. Screams escaped your lips and you were tempted to tell him to stop, but you knew where that would leave you. In much worse pain than this.

He spread you further, sunk into you deeper, and made you scream louder. It seemed like hours before he began to pump himself in and out of you, only halfway in. His hands locked into your hips and he continued to work his way into you. Whenever the pain became bearable, he would push himself deeper inside of you. Like he knew just how to keep you on edge. And all you could do was lay there and let him use you until he was satisfied you had learned your lesson.

By the time his cock was fully inside of you, Cassidy was already fucking you with reckless abandon. Content to just use you like a fleshlight with no regard to your cries. He kept an iron grip on your hips, keeping you in place while he rammed his cock into your abused hole, “Fuck, you’re tight. Gotta fuck you like this more often. Shit, if you keep misbehavin’ I might have to tie you out here for good. How would you like that, baby?”

You whined weakly. The shed was filled with the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and your cries that were muffled with every thrust. His pace grew faster and faster, and his moans turned into growls as he reached his peak. There was nothing for you to hold onto, nothing to keep you in place while Cassidy was reaching his climax. Your tender body scraped against the old, flimsy wood while he brutally fucked your ass.

But the feeling of his warm cum finally filling you, leaking out of the tight space that squeezed his cock and onto your legs, it felt so good. Anything that could give you relief from the cold would be welcome, and you spread your thighs further in an effort to leak out anymore cum.

Cassidy leaned over you, cock still buried inside you. His hands released your hips and you were happy to finally relax. He took his heavy jacket from his shoulders and wrapped it around you. It was finally over, you eagerly enveloped yourself in the warm fur of the coat and let out a sharp exhale.

“Damn baby,” Cassidy pulled himself out of you, wiped the juices on his cock onto your thigh, “I’ve killed plenty men for less than what you did tonight. But fuck if you don’t got a pretty face and a tight ass. Damn lucky, ya know that?”

You had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but you were inclined to believe him.

“Let’s get you inside,” he lifted you into his warm embrace, “get you cleaned up, how’s that sound?”

You looked up at him and he gave you a gentle smile, “I would love that, Daddy,” you whispered, not wanting to damage your throat any further.

He placed a kiss on your forehead and carried you inside the cabin. You were sore and it toke you ages for your body to get warm. Perhaps you might think twice in the future about indulging your penchant for mischief. But there was something about that wild, nasty side of Cassidy that lit a spark inside of you.

#not me hating the name cole….#cole cassidy x reader #cole cassidy #tw: dubious consent #tw: noncon #yandere #yandere overwatch #yandere!overwatch #dark overwatch #dark!overwatch #jesse mccree x reader #dark mccree #overwatch mccree #yandere mccree #yandere cassidy #cassidy

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whirlybirbs · 4 years ago

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✶ — las rosas están cayendo ; j.m.

summary: you're a figurehead in a far-reaching criminal underground operation that's offered jesse mccree haven and work in the last few years. your relationship with the cyberized cowboy is complicated but oh-so lovestruck.

pairing: jesse mccree / reader, est. relationship

tags: fluff, angst, good guy falls for the bad guy who’s not so bad

a/n: i’m simping, it’s fine

( read on archive of our own ! )

Jesse McCree likes the Silkroad's End. Always has.

The place's very namesake pays homage to some dark web marketplace that operated back in the 10s; it's fitting, Jesse thinks, since the entity itself certainly fits what he'd imagine the personification of that very digital market to be. Dark, a bit shady, and always crawling with folks who aren't really who they say they are.

Staff changes every three weeks. Location, too. Lucky for him, the only thing that stays the same is the barkeep. Everything else is rotating, always moving, always changing. It's best that way.

Truth be told nothing in the States offers true anonymity, anymore. All that's long since past. Every damn street corner has a camera watchin'. But, the Silkroad's End is good — and discretion is their business. They offer what people like Jesse McCree need:

Trustworthy resources.

Even still, knowing about the Silkroad's End is one thing.

Getting in is another entirely.

Jesse's learned not to be startled when a stranger ambles up and slips something in his palm — might get 'im killed someday, but for now, he offers a gentle tip of the hat to whatever camera is eyein' his current move in whatever city he's in.

The chips — obsidian colored and round — are few and far between. There's a chain-code implanted in the micro-computer inside that registers a location on his personal data-device; but without that chip, he ain't gettin' inside. It's one use, one time only.

This time, the den is a quiet little place on a side street in New Orleans.

This chip was delivered to Jesse in a seedy bar bathroom — and as he shoved it into his pocket and muscled up his tawny-colored jeans, he was left grimacing. Bastard that gave it to him didn't even wash his hands. Just pissed and dropped it on top of the urinal.

The den is downstairs, and Jesse turns in his chip after finding the little location to a towering omnic who reminds his a little bit too much of a certain butler he once knew.

"Might wanna wash that."

Spurs tinker on the wooden steps, and when the door's eye slot slams open, Jesse is met with the gaze of a human this time — an unknown staff member with a tattoo that crawls up the side of his head. There's a tense silence. Then, the slot slams shut.

With a quick yank of the three-inch durasteel door, Jesse finally steps foot into the Silkroad's End.

And, with an elated sort of smirk, he swaggers right in your direction.

Jesse reckons it's been four months since he's seen you — the ever-present barkeep and present owner of the Silkroad's End — last ; could be that you're one of many owners and operators, as he suspects but... Well, Jesse never had enough to go on that hunch.

There he was, as always, distracted.

You know the sound of his spurs from a million others. In an instant, your lashes are flicking up from the bar and through the crowded back room. Tonight is busy — seems a good few members decided tonight would be the night they cash in their chips. You shouldn't be surprised to see Jesse McCree, but...

He's always had a way of knocking you off your game.

"Have I ever told you," comes the low croon as a set of cyberized knuckles rap on the mahogany bar, "that you make the best drinks around?"

Your smirk settles into your words. You move slowly, reaching for that top-shelf whiskey he likes so much.

"Is that why you keep coming back, then?"

Jesse smirks. His trademark hat finds a spot beside him at the bar, and he leans back to run a hand through his dark, wild hair. "One of a handful of reasons I could list, sure."

The drink that lands in front of him is coupled with your full attention.

Jesse feels awfully big in it.

His fingertip tinker against the glass. The sound is pleasing.

Your elbows meet the bartop. You lean. Your eyes drift across his face, and for a moment you find a rush of relief bloom at the realization that there are no new scars. He looks tired, but well.

Alive.

A lot for a man with a bounty of sixty million on his head.

You work hard to keep that very bounty out of the Silkroad's End 's docket. That ledger of his, deep and relentless, has become harder to ignore in recent months. With word that Overwatch was recalled... Jesse's name had been floating around more than you liked recently.

It made you worry.

Your voice is soft. So is your smile.

Jesse, the sap he is, is glad he's sitting down for the sight of it.

"You look good, Jesse."

He scoffs into the whiskey. His eyes, a dark brown and warm like the run, roll at the remark. You grin.

"M' gettin' old," he rumbles, "And things are changing' faster than I can keep up with."

You don't pry. A habit. A good one, mostly. Jesse has a habit of being an open book. Given the chance, you'll pry later. For now, you opt to air on the side of wistful interest. Fleeting and light.

Your chin finds your palm.

Long ago, you wouldn't have dared to let a soul see you so engaged with a member like this, but... This operation ran on trust. Discretion was a part of the bigger equation and the people in this room? You've known most of them for years now.

Bounty hunters, arms dealers, drug peddlers.

They know better than to bite the hand that feeds.

"You been busy, then?" you ask, watching the way his eyes stick to you, even when he reaches to dig out a cigar from a pocket beneath his serape. In a flash, he's procured a gilded lighter and flicked it open. The flame dances between you both, and you watch as he puffs the cigar. The embers burn red.

He exhales and smoke swirls around his head like horns — Jesse's lips slip into a lopsided sort of look; more playful than anything.

"That lead you gave me," he drawls, "It worked out. Paid good, too."

Your smile is slow.

This song and dance is always fun.

"Been savin' a few for you," you say, "You're one of the few I can trust to actually bring people in alive."

"I haven't even been here fer more than a minute an' you're already talkin' business, pumpkin," Jesse grins, all toothy and scruffy, and takes another puff of his cigar, "That all you ever do?"

"You know me, Jesse," you slide your fingers across the underside of the bar, sending the partition up and allowing you to step around. You shrug your shoulders and hang your hands. The way his eyes flick across your figure isn't lost on you.

You cock your head towards the back office as you speak. "Always scheming."

If that ain't the god damn truth.

You're a smart little thing. All devilish wit and pulled strings. You have enough dirt in your back pocket to bring a few governments down, Jesse supposes. Nothing to bat an eyelash at.

He follows with ease; hat tucked upon his head once more, cigar and whiskey held in his hands. He follows you, looming over your shoulder, as the sea of patrons part with sidewards glances and half-aware nods. Everyone has their own business to attend to. You're simply attending to yours.

The back office isn't really much of an office — if anything, it's a refitted storage room. There's a desk, a handful of monitors, and enough security barring entrance to the windowless room that Jesse's roughed up every time.

The omnic patting him down isn't gentle. He tugs the peacekeeper from his hip holster and grunts. Jesse scowls.

That ain't never been a problem before, though.

You, all poised with your arms crossed, wave it off. The gun is shoved roughly back into Jesse's holster. If both hands weren't preoccupied, maybe the bouncer would get more than the nasty snarl Jesse manages as he's waved through. Maybe.

As the door slips shut behind him, the sound of your heels is all he hears.

"Beefed up security, huh?"

Your sigh is tight. He can see the tension along your shoulders when you round the sleek desk in the middle of the room and unlock a drawer. If you'd thought he'd move past your silence, you're wrong.

Jesse isn't like you.

He has a bad habit of asking plenty of follow up questions.

"What happened, pumpkin?"

That damn nickname is enough to spur you to straighten yourself, to set the datapad down gently on the desk in front of you, and to frown.

"There was an incident."

His worry is palpable.

"Nothing dramatic," you wave it off, shooing him slightly when he nears the desk. You walk around it and lean, settling on the edge, "But it was enough to spook a few staff members into being more mindful of who carries in the establishment. Especially behind closed doors."

You've had enough guns pulled on you in your life to know that one could have been the last — but it wasn't. It was fine. Might have earned you a few restless nights and a few connections to clean up, but the disgruntled member was dealt with. That was a month and a half ago now. Distant.

Jesse frowns. He sets his whiskey down on your desk, then leans and smothers the cigar in a fizzle of ash and smoke in the ashtray there.

His voice goes low, gruff, and serious.

"Pumpkin, I ain't a good man," he breathes, eyes low beneath the brim of his hat, "You're better off not trustin' men like me."

He does this every time.

A glimmer of self-consciousness towards his own character.

You know him better than to believe that shit.

"Jesse, if anyone was to put a bullet between my eyes," you mutter, unlocking the datapad with a flick of your finger, "I'd be honored if you were the one to do it."

That earns you a low grumble.

His weight moves to shift beside you. His hip bumps yours. His shoulder saddles right up against your own. You can smell the cigar on him, the burn of the whiskey on his tongue. Jesse is warm. He laces his own fingers together. You can feel his eyes on you as you sift through the files of bounties — and you try not to seem startled when he says your name soft enough it could pass for a lullaby.

"... You alright?"

It's not often you're asked this question.

You were right before — you were always talking business. Personal matters were kept far from any business dealings you did on a daily basis. It was pertinent. Kept the machine well-oiled.

Things with Jesse, though... They'd been different for a long time.

Things changed when the two of you had forgone professionalism once a handful of years ago now. It wasn't long after the first time you'd met him the cowboy had stolen himself into your well-guarded feelings. You blamed the charm. He believed it was luck. Despite knowing nearly nothing about you, he'd become enamored, and — when you'd initially thought the sex was something to sweeten the deal, Jesse quickly made it plenty clear he intended on keeping the sex and the business separate.

The feelings grew between those two things.

Now, in the center of his attention... Well, you feel small.

You let out a slow exhale.

"I missed you, y'know," you say slowly, eyes still trained on the names staring back at you on the datapad.

"Yeah," he breathes, "I missed you, too. Ain't fun bein' gone so long."

"As if either of us has a choice?"

Another hum. This one a bit sadder. Jesse supposes you're right, that it isn't exactly ideal — and it's not as if he's allowed himself to be vulnerable to anyone else these last few years. Not when he's a wanted man. Not when gettin' someone tangled up in the danger is the last thing he wants.

It was different with you. You knew the danger. You...

Christ alive, he wishes now things were different.

Back then, it was easy.

Coming to terms, now, with the numbing loneliness that hangs itself over the both of you hurts a bit worse. Time is ticking by. He'll be older than he is younger soon.

"You ever wish you could leave it all behind?"

His question is met with a tired scoff. Your cheek finds his shoulder. Your hair falls along his arm.

"And become the world's most wanted woman?"

"What you've got is an empire," Jesse drawls, a hand slowly reaching for your own, "M' sure someone would wanna call it theirs ."

"And then what happens to the tired, old queen? The queen who knows what makes that empire strong?"

Your quirk your brows. Jesse sighs.

"... Point taken."

"I made my bed," you say with a measured sense of finality, "And I've gotta lay in it, Jesse."

His eyes dance alight when something then that's tempered with fire; he blinks down at you through thick lashes as he speaks.

"Wouldn't mind layin' with you..."

It's husky. Drawn out. Nearly a sigh, especially when his fingers slip along the curve of your wrist and draw up to your cheek.

"I'm starting to think you come here," you mumble with an edge of sarcasm as his nose brushes yours, "For more than just business ."

"Oh, sweetpea," Jesse grins as he whispers, "It's been that way for a long time now."

The kiss is bruising — the sort you missed horribly in those months apart. It's lip and teeth and scruff; the brush of his beard is enough to make you smile, enough to make you abandon the datapad on your desk.

Enough to keep you distracted enough that you don't notice Jesse McCree tapping an encrypted data transfer skimmer over your datapad.

You'll notice in the morning.

And by then, he'll be long gone.

#jesse mccree x reader #jesse mccree imagine #jesse mccree x you #jesse mccree fanfic #overwatch imagine #overwatch x reader #WHOOPS #i go radio silent then write a whole FIC FOR. THE COWBOY.

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overdrivels · 5 years ago

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Impressions

Man, I think this’ll be the first time I write something using pronouns of my own accord. I don’t know if anyone’s ever noticed, but I’ve worked actively in most of my writings here (and in TWtaH) to never allude to gender or physical appearance. Forgive me just this once, I really want to indulge.

I didn’t proofread this, I just wanted to fight writer’s block and write something really, really self indulgent. I’m really not strong enough to abstain or to control my own bullshit. It’s like 4k of unorganized thoughts loosely strung together.

——

You came to the Watchpoint one chilly summer night, wearing a proud grin that the heavy pelting rains could not wash off. The upward turn of your lips stood out in sharp contrast to the deep droop of your loose clothes, more vessels for water than for you. Over the sounds of thunder you had boldly declared to everyone who came to see who was so brave and foolish as to come during this weather: “I’ve come to save you from yourselves.”

First impressions are everything, the clan had taught him that. But Overwatch taught him people are more than their first impressions.

Hanzo’s impression of you, the first (tracking mud and rain water on freshly cleaned floors), second (curled in the corner of the kitchenette, asleep and blocking the way to the kettle), and onward (not bothering to change after spilling coffee all over yourself, sleeping just anywhere you please and on anyone you please and at any time you please), was as lousy as the last.

‘Slovenly’ would be a good word to describe you and the way you carry yourself. Everything you did was haphazard and barely put together in the way that Hanzo would've been scolded and beat for as a youth.

Placed side-by-side, it's clear you're exact opposites. Hanzo, while approaching the end of his midlife crisis at a breakneck speed, still maintained some of the decorum that shadowed the immaculate side of himself that he had worn everyday for most of his life. You, on the other hand, looked like you rolled out of bed regardless of occasion without a care in the world or for how anyone might see you. It vexes him that people could call you a 'hero' or find comfort in your existence looking and acting the way you do.

Even McCree and the Junkers have more tact than you who sits in on the meeting in your pajamas and a crumpled parka meant to cover the fact that you were not wearing proper pants. At least they look battle-ready. You look like you're four seconds away from rolling back into bed.

"--we will require everyone's attendance. There will be many dignitaries present,��--Hanzo does not miss the way Winston seems to look at you—“so we ask you please be on your best behavior. The dress code is, of course, white-tie formal, though your tie may be whatever color you wish."

Winston chuckles a bit at his own joke, though it falls flat in the face of everyone else who seems more dismayed than anything at having to attend a formal party doing, arguably, the opposite of their jobs.

Hanzo can't help but glance over at you. Your head rests precariously on your palm, elbow threatening to slip out from beneath the weight. You're barely even trying to pay attention.

The thought sends an exasperated fire through Hanzo's veins and he forces himself to look away. His old habits of correcting people and instilling discipline were coming back to haunt him in spades. If he keeps paying too much attention to your lackadaisical manner, he fears he'll lose all the progress he's made since he's joined Overwatch--he'll relapse and soon have a sword in hand again.

Luckily neither of your paths crossed often. He still has no idea what you do. Your hours are unusual. You do not go on missions with them. You do not participate in combat drills. You do not voice your opinion on anything during meetings and no one mentions your seemingly lack of participation. Instead, you’re usually locked in your own room or get chauffeured around by Lena, disappearing for weeks at a time before returning with things like a golf bag or suitcase meant for vacationing. It's unclear how you're meant to 'save them from themselves' when you do nothing of value in the first place.

It’s good that he barely sees you except for times like these when everyone’s collective presence is required. Neither of you have so much as exchanged more than a sentence, but he’s overheard you jabbering once or twice that didn’t change his mind that you were useless and an irritating existence.

Beneath his skin, the dragons draw a slow, undulating spiral. Restless, but comfortable, drawing his attention away from the reminder that he is still no better of a person than he was before.

Winston explains the expected attendees of the party. All of them are high-profile figures with significant influence over their own spheres of influence. There are specific people he would like them to get on good terms with: the head of the United Nations; leaders of specific human rights movements; leaders of countries with pro-omnic rights. All agents should remain in groups and only designated people should seek conversations with specified individuals.

The most important thing is to project the image that Overwatch is back and united. Gaining support is just a parallel mission.

Everyone is dismissed, the weight of the briefing dragging down their moods. It’s a high stakes mission with a lot of risk. Throwing all of them unsupervised and untrained into this situation is too reckless.

For the sake of Overwatch, he hopes you'll at least wear something appropriate. Watching you leave the meeting with your lazy shuffling, and shoulders slumped to the point your parka is struggling to remain on your person, he has some serious reservations.

From the corner of his eye, he sees Lucio delicately readjust your parka like you’re a child to be looked after. The DJ had mentioned he took care of kids in his neighborhood--a natural big brother figure--so it’s natural for him to notice such things and take it into stride. Even so, there’s a limit to these activities.

You're an adult. He does not know your exact age, but he knows you should be old enough to not require the pampering of others. Snorting to himself, he turns away, determined not to let your existence bother him.

But that proves difficult.

The day of the party looms over everyone’s heads, rapidly drawing near. Tensions are palpable. Agents run to and fro, fretting over what is appropriate to wear and how to act that wouldn’t embarrass or threaten Overwatch’s existence.

While Hanzo isn’t worried about how to act during the party, one thing does weigh on his mind. You.

He hadn’t seen you since that meeting ended, explaining the party, and it’s already the eve of. He was too busy helping the other agents figure out their attires and manners to care, but now that most of that is sorted, he realizes he hasn’t seen hide nor hair of you.

It’s not that he cares. He doesn’t. Not about you anyway.

Winston tells him, “She’ll meet us at the party, not to worry. Her current mission will end just as the party starts."

"Current mission? I was not aware she did any work." If Winston noticed the amount of malice in those words, he didn't say anything about it. Ana, though, laughs into her hand.

"Oh yes, she does a lot for Overwatch. Not that you and everyone else doesn't, of course! Her activities are a little different than ours, so I haven't had a chance to pair her with anyone here so far. But rest assured, everyone is doing their parts to help."

It doesn't answer his question and Hanzo's not sure if Winston is being purposefully evasive. Not that the scientist has a single deceitful bone in his large body.

"And what exactly does she do?"

"Now, now. Let's save that for later." Ana steps in between them both. "We have other things to worry about. Did you study up on your target?"

"Of course."

He's memorized the dossier on the person he is supposed to make contact with at the party. She is the head of a for-profit charity organization. While her operations are small, they receive a considerable amount of support and boast of a large network of benefactors that Overwatch themselves can benefit from. He has no plans to mess this up.

"Very good. You're dismissed then." There's a hardness to her eye that forbids any further backtalk and Hanzo has no choice but to withdraw and ponder on the nature of your job.

In the end, he has to believe that you wouldn't be an embarrassment to Overwatch, especially not during their first public debut. No matter how unkempt you are normally, he knows you take your job seriously. Winston said as much and Hanzo has never once actually heard anyone complain about you. It's the only reason his irritation hasn't gotten the better of him.

—

The party itself is rather impressive, on par with the ones that he attended when he was still considered the scion of the Shimada clan. The hall is large and well decorated with arched ceilings and a live orchestra filling every crevice with music.

Paparazzi are ready for them, swarming immediately as soon as they step out of their rented hoverlimo. It takes the combined efforts of himself, McCree, Fareeha, Zarya, Roadhog, and Soldier: 76 to part the crowd and get into the venue.

Many of the guests are distinguished. Hanzo recognizes many of them as leaders of countries, a few as CEOs of national companies, A-list celebrities and holovideo personalities. Overwhelmingly political, though.

Dr. Zhou seems uncomfortable with the attention, shying away from conversation and making herself as small as possible. Winston is right beside her, equally awkward despite the gungho attitude he had about it in the beginning. At least they have Zarya and Fareeha with them to detract from any unwanted conversation.

Surprisingly, Reinhardt and Soldier: 76 blend right into the crowd, making pleasantries like it’s second nature. Even Ana is taking a large brunt of conversations relating to Overwatch, stepping in gracefully when needed, standing down and merely watching with an unapproachable aura when she wasn’t.

There are others who seem to disappear in the crowd. Satya, Genji, and McCree all seem to have made themselves scarce. Not that he has any room to talk--he’s made himself a home behind one of the many pillars in the back of the hall where he has a great view of most of the venue.

Everyone else is prim and proper and their suits and dresses as though it didn’t take them all about six hours to get ready.

In the back of his mind, he thinks it would be better if you couldn’t make it.

Not even an hour into the party, some commotion by the door catches his attention. Paparazzi, likely sensing the presence of a scoop, all swarm toward the arching entryway, excited murmurs buzzing throughout the hall. What could possibly get the attention of all these vultures?

He's half-curious, but he suddenly has his hands full running after Junkrat who decides he no longer likes his bowtie or the fact that the first four buttons of his shirt are closed.

It takes him a little while with McCree’s and Zenyatta’s help to calm Junkrat down--and he never realized just how tall the man was until he had to wrestle the Junker to the ground. By the time he’s done fixing himself up, the paparazzi crowd has dispersed and his hand is now occupied with champagne instead of rowdy children. He scans the crowd, seeking out his target for sweet talking.

But someone else catches his eye.

A figure in a dress no more fancier or elegant than any other attendee’s, but there’s just something about how the person holds themselves that gives him pause and puts him on edge as though the claws of a particularly dangerous animal were pressed against his neck.

Hanzo damn near drops his champagne glass in surprise when he’s able to put a name to the face.

It's you.

He has to do a double take and squint.

No, he has to be dreaming. This is a dream.

But no matter how much blinked or tried to clear his vision, you remain with the exception that you are more regal and composed than any time he's ever seen you. It's as though he's never known you at all. And maybe he doesn’t.

At his elbow, McCree whistles, catching your attention. Even your smile is refined, thinned and polite. You seem to politely fend off all the interested parties with ease and make your way over, shoulders held back and chin lifted, each step sure and crisp. Even your footsteps radiated authority and an unshakeable confidence not normally found in your daily life.

Up close, he can see you put immense thought into your appearance. Your make-up is sharp and meticulous. The dress is well suited to your figure and skin. Everything is composed to give you a fierce presence that cannot be ignored even by laymen. If he had to put your appearance into one word, it would be “beautiful”.

Why you never pay attention to your appearance normally is beyond him.

"You clean up nicely," McCree remarks as he hands you an extra glass of champagne. Gingerly, you take it between your fingers, tilting your head just so in appreciation with the crinkle of your eyes to match. Natural, but calculated. "What's your secret?"

Simply, you reply, "I had help.” Then: “You look great, yourself. I’m not sure if I like the rugged look or this side of you more. Both are handsome.”

“Much obliged.”

Clinking your glasses together, you raise yours at Hanzo. Autopilot kicks in and Hanzo politely meets your glass with his. Words escape him and a sip of champagne fills the void.

It cannot be you. You, who shows up to meetings in pajamas. You, who slouched on every sittable surface like it was your personal couch. You, who can’t even be bothered to put your clothes on right without someone else fixing it for you.

But you’re right here, making small talk with McCree like you were meant to.

“Hanzo, you look great, too. Very gorgeous.”

“Not as much as you,” he responds almost automatically. He clenches his jaw and hopes that he doesn’t look as panicked as he feels. This situation is just too strange.

Your eyes twinkle and you laugh. It sends a shiver down his spine. The sounds of something dangerous draws near and the sense of danger against his back presses itself harder against him. “Silver tongues everywhere. But I appreciate it. How are you enjoying the party?”

“As much as anyone else.”

“Not at all, then.”

“Come on, when are we ever going to have such fancy food?” McCree says, waving at the trays of hor d'oeuvres being carted around by bots.

“Soon, if our mission goes well.”

Again, you give him a look that he’s wary of.

Just what have you been doing all this time to be able to look like this? You seem to have no problems blending in to the crowd here as though you belonged with them. If he didn’t know you were a part of Overwatch, he would’ve mistaken you for a target.

He’s reminded of the few mafia bosses he’s met in life who would greet him wearing jinbei instead of the expensive suits Hanzo was accustomed to seeing. People with so much power that they don’t care about appearances anymore-they have nothing to prove to anyone.

Are you the same? Or was the Watchpoint just your way of unwinding?

Soon, Lena and her girlfriend join the conversation. Lena looks delighted at your appearance, a large grin spreading across her face.

"Lookin' fancy, love. Was wondering if you’d even make it."

"Thank you, Lena. And is this Emily? I've heard so much about you, Lena just won't stop gushing."

“What does she say?”

“Hey, hey! Ix-nay on the irlfriendgay.”

Seeing this side of you puts him off kilter. He’s not quite sure how to reconcile the image of you that he’s accustomed to and the person in front of him. He’s used to people hiding their true natures and donning personas, but this contrast is just too jarring.

Luckily, he finds his break when he spies his target and with an “Excuse me” makes his way to her. He doesn’t turn back lest he makes a further fool of himself.

“Are you enjoying the party, Argus Twenty?” he asks.

The omnic’s lights blink as though scanning her memory bank for his face, but seemingly comes up empty. “Very much so. And whom do I have the pleasure of speaking to?”

“Shimada, Hanzo. Overwatch. At your service.” He bows slightly at the waist. “I have heard a lot about you.”

“Good things, I hope.”

“Only the best. I’ve been meaning to speak to you about your work and if there was anything Overwatch can do to help. We seem to be of similar ventures.”

Even without facial expressions, he could tell she’s smiling. “In that case—”

It’s much easier than he expects to talk to her. She’s refreshingly straightforward and objective, presenting her troubles and solutions with tact. He even gets her to speak of the power dynamics and relationships in her organization, and how they could help each other.

Somehow, he feels like he already knows her.

The time passes easily (as does his mission).

When Argus leaves, she gives him her business card, inviting him to the restaurant that is the organization’s main headquarters. Hanzo promises to visit to further build on this relationship. Now he can tell Winston they’ve secured another means to support. Another job well done.

As he searches for Winston, he sees suspicious movements from the corner of his eye. It’s Mei and Hana, cornered by someone who looks to be twice their age combined. He can’t exactly see who it is, but he can tell the two are uncomfortable.

"I want to hear all about it. My villa is open to you ladies anytime."

“Thank you, we’ll have to check our schedules.”

“Oh, but I insist. I’m sure you can free up some time.”

No one else is close enough to interfere. He resigns himself to what would undoubtedly be a difficult time. Squaring his shoulders, he raises his head, donning the air of authority that he once wore like a second skin and makes swift strides toward the trio, fully intending on breaking up the one-sided 'conversation'.

Someone else bears him to the punch.

"Have you been hiding from me all night?"

Your smile is dazzling as you smoothly and loudly interject, extend a free hand toward the man. "Mr. Drumph, what about my invitation? We haven't spoken since that time in Washington, beginning to think you've forgotten about me."

The man's face screws up into a tight smile.

"Long time, my friend!" He grasps your hand with both of his, giving it a firm shake. "Was just inviting these ladies to my villa. Great views. Great food. Nothing better. You’re invited, too, of course."

“Of course. When’s a good time for you? I’m fully booked for the next five months, but I will clear my schedule for you, just tell me when.”

“You know, if I could just get those lobbyists off my back, I could probably do two weeks from now.”

You tsk, a derisive smile on your face. "From the OmniCore, right? I could lend you a hand, you know. They do owe me for that one case, you know, with LumeriCo?"

"That’s right, LumeriCo. You have connections with them, don’t you?”

“I can arrange for that right now. Give you some breathing room for a month.” You take out your communicator, already texting. “You know, I remember your golf course is near your villas. I would love for you to show me your short game again. Maybe even invite Sam this time.”

“Sam? Remind me again...”

“President of HardBank.” A guiding hand turns the man around, gesturing at some vague figure in the crowd. You shoot a look at the frozen Mei and Hana, gesturing with your eyes for them to make their escape.

The two give you a thumbs up, shuffling away.

“Oh, yeah, her. She was involved in the acquisition fiasco with BioTech—”

“We all benefited from it. I think she can lend us a hand this time, too. HardBank’s the main sponsors of OmniCore. I’m sure she can call things off for a bit. Come with me to the bar, I see you could use another drink. Have you ever tried a boilermaker?”

The two of you slowly start to walk, drifting into the thick of the party like old friends, Mei and Hana quickly forgotten. Hanzo watches as more and more people begin to take notice, likely seeing Mr. Drumph's presence at your side as permission to approach. It’s not long before you’re laughing it up and chatting with other, equally powerful figures. You blend right in with them, feeding them the same poison they dish out.

The sight is painfully familiar.

Hanzo stands there, determined not to feel impressed by your handling of the situation and instead goes to check on the two.

—

As the party winds down, Hanzo finds you resting in one of the more secluded areas of the venue. Even half-hidden like this, you’re still sitting with your back straight and eyes sharp, ready to jump straight back into the socialite persona you’ve displayed this entire evening.

Wordlessly, he hands you a juice which you take without looking at him.

“Thank you.”

He says nothing, looking down at your head and studying your features.

Truly. If you dressed like this and acted like this all the time, he wouldn’t have wasted his time worrying about you and the potential shame you would bring upon Overwatch. Now he feels liek a fool for having been concerned in the first place. Winston would not call back anyone who isn’t qualified to do their jobs, and Overwatch, despite being defunct and having lost its way prior to the Fall, did employ some of the most brilliant of each field. It serves to reason that you are no different in that regard.

“Penny for your thoughts?” you ask quietly.

“Hm. I just was not aware you had experience in something such as politics. It’s a bad hobby.”

"There is no good or bad in politics. Just self-interests."

"I am inclined to disagree."

"Disagree then. It doesn't change the fact that I get more done at golf courses and resorts than in an office."

"And what exactly have you done for Overwatch?"

You raise a pointed eyebrow as if asking if he were serious. A sly, calculated smile slowly worms its way into your face. There's a new shine in your eyes, mischievous and mocking.

"If you don't know, then there's no need to worry yourself about it."

Translation: Your lowly rank does not permit you to know.

Before he has a chance to retort, Winston jumps in, seemingly a little more tipsy than when Hanzo first saw him.

“Please allow me to explain then.” Winston puts his finger in the air. "Overwatch is currently in need of financial and political support. We can continue doing our deeds, but there’s a risk it won’t be perceived well. We needed someone to handle that side for us, hence…” He gestures at you, nearly hitting you in the face, and the party. “All this.”

It's true. None of them are suited for the tedious backdoor dealings of the political world. Hanzo is the closest candidate, but his ties mean nothing here. (Not that he wants them to in the first place.) And he can’t think of anyone else who would be willing to spend the time cultivating these relationships.

“Cat’s out of the bag then.” You smile that well-practiced smile, swirling your juice. "I've been a political aide for a long time. When Winston asked me to come back, I spent months going around and establishing political ties. Now I handle most of Overwatch's advocacy. Your good deeds will only go so far. To change a corrupt system, it's best to either dismantle it or take control of it."

"And which are you doing?"

The flute touches your lips and your smile turns sly. "Which do you think, Mr. Shimada?" A sip of your drink prevents you from answering. Not that he was expecting it, not after seeing what you do.

“Hm.”

“Well, don’t worry about it too much. As long as you accomplish your mission, there’ll be plenty of opportunity for you to get involved in mine.”

You laugh and instantly go back to your professional self, having spotted another target of yours. Excusing yourself, you approach a couple with smooth compliments and sinister whispers as you attempt to secure another backdoor deal.

Again, Hanzo tries not to be impressed with the words coming out of your mouth and the ease with which you wield these promises.

Truly, his impressions were wrong.

—

Hanzo sees you again at the Watchpoint, weeks after the party.

You're back to your usual self, dragging a blanket around your waist, probably in lieu of actual pants. Unconsciously, a disgusted noise escapes his throat. But he doesn’t forget that beneath that sloppy facade is the mind of a person willing to put themselves at political risk for Overwatch and that whatever his impressions of you are, they’re wrong.

But it’s hard not to go back to being annoyed with you now that he’s had a glimpse of what you could really be.

First impressions are lasting, after all.

#my writing #back on my bullshit

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totallyfrandom · 5 years ago

Text

I saw a screenshot of the group in “Overwatch 2″ cinematic and noticed something significant: the Omnic Echo is among them.

We remember her from McCree's animated short "Reunion" where it’s revealed she’s his former partner and then I read a couple of comments on Tumblr of people complaining about McCree's lack of presence. I was struck by a thought. If it's true what I'm thinking then OW2 will be pretty crap Imo.

In the ending of "Reunion", McCree told Echo that Overwatch called him to come back but he also told her that Overwatch needs her. He then left to “attend to some business”, leaving his story unfinished. So my thought that because McCree sent Echo to rejoin Overwatch he might not be in OW2.

That's a way far shot of Blizzard to remove a fan favorite from OW2 but we never know what Blizzard is up to. At least I don't.

#Overwatch 2 #personal

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cryptidhanzoshimada · 6 years ago

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Other Business

If blizz won’t give us the mccree angst then i guess i’ll write it myself

aka my take on what happens after the reunion short

“I’ve got other business to attend to. Say hi to the monkey for me.”

“Monkey?”

“Heh, scientist!”

With a twist of his wrist, the motorcycle revs high and pulls ahead. Jesse pulls his feet up and leans into the turn before opening her up all the way. The wind whips in his hair, but his hat stays securely on his head. It’s been too long since he’s ridden one of these beasts, since he felt one of these engines rumble between his legs and the wind tearing at his face.

He gives a small wave to Ashe as he rockets past her, her yell of “MCCREEEEEEEE” acting as the background to his laugh. He knows those ropes won’t stop her for long; as soon as that cart rolls up to the warehouse the rest of the Rebels waiting there will set her loose and then she’ll be on a warpath, but that’s why he decided to make his get away on 120 horsepower.

Jesse rides for hours on open road, nothing around him except for open desert. When the sun finally starts to touch the horizon he reaches the town he stopped in before this whole ordeal. He drops his speed and coasts through the small down until he gets to the only motel in the area. The bike gets parked around back, away from prying eyes, and he heads for the second floor. He tips his hat to an older lady who steps out of her room with an ice bucket and scoots around her to his own room.

The door opens with a shove and closes with a squeak. For a moment everything is still. The air conditioner rattles in the window and the faint sound of a TV can be heard through the left wall.

The smile on Jesse’s face drops.

With an exhale the stillness is broken and a weight comes crashing down on his shoulders. The hat gets hung up on the coat rack on the wall, his gun belt and serape right next to it. The chest plate come off next with a weary hand and get dropped in the closet, followed by the chaps. The single glove gets dropped into the dresser and Jesse drags his hand through his hair.

Fucking hell.

He knew that facing Ashe again after all these years would be hard, she was the one after all who sent him to follow up on that too-good-to-be-true tip that ended up being a Blackwatch sting. In retrospect, he’s glad he went on that haul, but the principle of it still hurts. At least B.O.B. was as cordial as ever. And Echo, it was good, more than good to see her awake after all of this time, but at the same time it brings up the memories of why she was forced to go to sleep in the first place.

Jesse go rummaging through his duffel bag. Past the extra pairs of jeans and shirts, flashbangs and bullets, he finds his prize.

“Hello business.”

He collapses into the chair by the window and cracks open the bottle of Jack Daniels. He takes a long swig and sighs as it burns its way down his throat.

Every day it gets harder to put that mask on. The one that shows him as the cocksure, carefree cowboy everyone expects to see. The one that wanders with the wind and doesn’t have any regrets.

“They need you.”

The ‘They don’t need me’ went unsaid, but it’s still true. Winston’s got big plans and even bigger aspirations and he doesn’t need some outlaw cowboy with a quick gun as his only talent dragging them down. Jesse’s smart, and pragmatic; he knows his worth, and he knows its pennies compared to some of the other people answering the call.

The second sip of whiskey doesn’t burn as much, the third even less, and by the fourth his fingertips start to feel tingly. Another cigar comes out soon after that and Jesse knows he probably looks the definition of pitiful right now but he just doesn’t have any energy left to care.

And why should he? He’s got no one to answer to, no one to see him like this. He’s free.

And unneeded.

And alone.

Consider buying me a Ko-fi?

#i say i love jess for someone who beats up on him a lot #and here i thought i couldn't be a straight angst writer #overwatch #jesse mccree #xana yells into the void #my writing

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overwatchworks · 6 years ago

Text

Another Reunion (after the McCree short)

Jesse hadn’t been to Deadlock Gorge in a long time. Not much had changed. The diner was still a mess, the coffee still tasted like boiled dirt, and the apple pie was still just as gelatinous as he remembered. When the train tracks exploded, it wasn’t a surprise. He’d seen the wires and poorly hidden charges when he walked in to the Panorama, paid them no mind. Jesse goal wasn’t saving the train, after all. It had something he wanted on it too. He was expecting the wreck-wanted it really-and had cleared everyone out beforehand.

Of course there had been a shoot out-he had expected that too-but his end goal was reached. Echo could do what she wanted, now that she was back online. Overwatch sure as hell could use her help. As soon as Jesse had heard a tip about where they were keeping her, he went looking. Of course, it just so happened to be his old stomping grounds. Seeing Ashe had been interesting. She hadn’t changed. Deadlock hadn’t changed.

Jesse’s brows furrowed lower as he thought, the engine of Ashe’s hoverbike a steady rumble keeping him in the present. He’d done his part. The old motel he was staying at came into view, the neon lights the only thing other than the stars that had a glow in the otherwise empty desert. Jesse parked and went to his room, hat low over his eyes despite the time.

Echo’s question was still lingering in his mind as he took off his belt, hat, and boots. “What are you going to do?”

Jesse huffed a dry laugh to himself, sitting down heavily on the bed. He had only given the most vague answer he could.

“Business to attend to.” He repeated to himself out loud, eyes drifting to the ceiling. There was always business to attend to, but nothing that was truly vital. Just time-passes, something Jesse could amuse himself with and call it justice.

He didn’t really have anything better to do, and yet, Overwatch was something he couldn’t bring himself to accept yet. The old gang, getting back together. Some familiar faces would be there, but there would be more that weren’t. Jesse had paid his time, suffered his losses. If he was being honest with himself, there were some wounds that still weren’t healed. Some that he wasn’t sure could heal fully. Deadlock Gorge had only tugged at one of his biggest, cracking the surface and making it bleed again.

“Damn ingrate.”

“Old man.”

Jesse shook his head and lit a cigar. That was something he wanted to keep dead and buried. Seeing Deadlock had only made it worse. They had been his family, after all. A damn shitty one, but family all the same when he’d had nothing else. He and Ashe had shared some good times, enough to remember a select few fondly. But there was always regret when it came to Deadlock. Guilt when it came to Blackwatch. Reluctance now with Overwatch.

Winston’s message had been a surprise; the fact that they wanted Jesse back at all was even more so. He chewed on his cigar, debating whether or not to view the call again. It had been burned to memory after the fifteenth time, but Jesse still watched it another fifty. Maybe it was some hope he was holding on to. Hope for a place to go to, hope for some sort of familiarity again.

Jesse watched the call again. He wondered how many others had been contacted again. He debated again. Tossed the tablet aside again.

He wasn’t ready yet. That’s why he had gone to get Echo. They needed her, not him. Not yet. The cowboy sighed heavily, putting out his cigar and getting ready for bed.

The next few days were met with more traveling. Jesse listened to the radio as he made his way through Route 66, the atmosphere reminding him of his younger days. He had done the exact same thing twenty years ago. Jesse would have laughed at the parallels if he wasn’t feeling so apprehensive. There was a vague, nagging feeling that wouldn’t leave him alone, making the hairs on the back of his neck rise. He’d left the main road because of it, decided to camp out in a remote town for a bit.

Jesse bunkered down at a little place that could hardly pass for a hotel, making sure his gun was on him at all times. Staying inside made him antsy, so he went back out on the hoverbike. Found a place he could shoot and let off some steam without bothering anyone. Still, that feeling followed him. It was something he could place now, something Jesse was familiar with. He was being watched.

The cowboy shot and waited, figuring he could take care of things discreetly if someone wanted to pick a fight. Probably Deadlock, it had been enough time for them to get themselves back together. It was dusk before Jesse heard footsteps, light and barely detectable. They came up from behind, stopping after a moment. He cocked Peacekeeper’s hammer, the click of it resonating in the otherwise quiet night.

“Yanno, if you really wanted to sneak up on me, you could’ve done a better job of it. I expected more from you, Ashe.” Jesse sighed, whipping around only to find someone leaning against the hoverbike. It wasn’t Ashe. The cowboy’s hand lowered, eyes widening in disbelief.

“Genji...?”

“You know, for being a trained black ops agent, you are quite easy to trace.”

The tone was fond, amused, even. Genji’s green visor flashed as he looked up, arms still crossed over his chest.

“What...Are you doin’ here?” Jesse asked cautiously, not sure if he wanted to believe what was happening.

“Oh, I just heard about a train wreck and Deadlock, then remembered the old habits of a certain cowboy I know.”

Jesse took a shallow breath in, brows furrowing.

“Maybe I should ask why you’re here.”

Genji straightened at that, arms falling to his side as he walked towards Jesse. The cowboy couldn’t help but take him in. He looked so different, and yet, the walk, the voice, the mannerisms were all...Him.

“Did you not hear about the recall?”

“Oh, I heard alright.”

“And? You do not plan to take it?”

“Do you plan on takin’ it?” Jesse shot back, avoiding the question. He was avoiding a lot of things at the moment.

“I already did.”

Genji was in front of him now, hands at his sides. Relaxed in a way Jesse couldn’t make himself feel.

“So, may I ask you again if you plan on taking up the call?” The cyborg continued, something defiant in his voice that sparked memories.

“Is that why you’re here? To bring me back?”

“Yes.”

Blatant and direct, surprising Jesse.

“You are not the first person I have talked to about this. And certainly not the most troublesome.”

“But why me...?” Jesse asked softly, Genji huffing a laugh.

“I think you know why.”

The cowboy sighed, eyes downcast. Of course he knew. Or he thought he knew. But he didn’t want to admit it, didn’t want to be wrong.

“Overwatch could use the help, especially with an old member coming back.” Genji murmured, Jesse scoffing.

“I was never apart of Overwatch, never wanted to be.”

“So is that a no?”

Jesse was quiet, Genji’s stance shifting. He moved even closer, too close to be casual. Too close after seven years.

“Overwatch needs you too, Jesse. You are more valuable than you realize, to more than just Overwatch...”

Genji reached out, and Jesse didn’t pull back. His metal hand was taken once more, held delicately as the cyborg ran a thumb over the divots.

“I’m asking you to come with me.”

“I know...”

“So, will you?”

“I can’t give you that answer yet.” Jesse whispered. His chest felt tight, something in his mind not letting him cross that line just yet. Genji was standing in front of him, asking if he would go back to Overwatch with him. And he wasn’t saying yes. He wasn’t saying anything.

“I understand. Perhaps we should go back to your motel, hm?” Genji offered softly, and it was so unlike the Genji that Jesse used to know. And yet, it wasn’t. Genji was always soft at times like this, when Jesse was unsure and confused about what to do. Genji was always there, somehow, to help him too.

“Yeah, sounds good...” The cowboy murmured, not questioning how Genji knew about that. If he could find Jesse in the middle of nowhere after seven years, the motel part seemed insignificant.

Genji nodded, then headed back towards the hoverbike.

“Mind if I hitch a ride, then?”

“No—Wait, how did you get here?”

“I’ve done my fair share of walking over the years.” The ninja told him noncommittally. Jesse only hummed in response.

He swung his leg over the seat and waited, feeling Genji maneuver himself up behind him. Arms wrapping around his waist securely and a firm weight leaning against his back. The cowboy took a breath and fired up the engine, taking them back to the main road with a cloud of dust.

Genji’s arms would squeeze around him tighter when he took a sharp turn or went faster, only derailing what little focus Jesse had even further. They made it back to the motel by the time the night had fully set in, quietly going to Jesse’s room.

Genji looked around for a moment, though Jesse could tell he was just busying himself to give the cowboy some time. Jesse sighed heavily and took off his hat, setting it on a bedpost.

“So. What made you think comin’ here to find me was a good idea?” He finally spoke up, breaking the silence that had long since become uncomfortable.

“Call it intuition.” Genji replied easily, taking a few steps further into the room.

“Intuition, huh?”

“Jesse. I understand this is a shock, and you may not want to come back—“

“You’re right! Maybe I don’t want to be part of that damn place again! Maybe I don’t want to go back to memories I thought I left behind! But here they are, hunting me down day after day! Things I thought I’d left gone and buried, comin’ back and messing with my head again!” Jesse interrupted, voice raised but not quite a shout. He was too tired to really be angry. Hurt was a whole different story, though.

Genji was quiet for a long moment, the cowboy looking down and rubbing a hand over his eyes.

“I’m so tired of the past hauntin’ me, Gen. I’m tired of things comin’ back that I don’t want any part of. I did my time there...Both of us did.” He murmured.

There was a soft hiss, Jesse looking up to find umber eyes gazing back at him. Softer than he remembered, wiser and more aged. A familiar face, paler, with a few more scars and lines.

“I know. I’m not asking you to make a decision now. I just ask that you think about it.”

Gentle hands took his own, without an ounce of hesitation as he squeezed them lightly.

“I know this is hard for you. I won’t try and force you to do anything. I just want you to know that I would like you to come back, Jesse. Overwatch needs you, but I need you more.”

Jesse cursed softly under his breath, closing his eyes as he felt a finger slide under his chin.

“It’s okay to say no. It’s okay to not know what to say. I’m just glad I found you again.” Genji whispered, his hand going up further to cup Jesse’s cheek.

“Gen...I can’t...”

“It’s okay.”

Genji stretched up to place a little kiss on Jesse’s forehead. Jesse felt like he was about to break. He didn’t know what to do.

“I’ll leave you be for tonight. I’m sorry for dropping in so unexpectedly. I know it’s a lot.” Genji murmured, shifting to stand. Jesse’s hand shot out to take hold of his wrist before could get too far.

“Please stay...”

Jesse barely recognized his own voice, barely heard it either, but Genji paused. Turned and gathered the cowboy in his arms, pulling him to his chest. Jesse could hear the soft thump of his heart beat.

He woke up the next morning groggily, though he felt good. Genji had slept on the couch-still was-as Jesse stood and stretched quietly. The cowboy watched him for a moment, the steady rise and fall of his chest, body splayed somewhat haphazardly over the cushions. Genji always did find the strangest positions to fall asleep in. Jesse shook himself, then went into the bathroom to clean up.

It was out to the balcony next, a cigar in hand and smoke rising from it already. He watched the sun rise. Thought about Genji’s offer, his confession. It had never occurred to Jesse that anyone would still hold such strong feelings for him, much less someone like Genji. Jesse had never talked himself out of loving the ninja. Just convinced himself he’d forgotten and hoped to leave it that way. Genji coming back only reminded him again. And it wasn’t a bad feeling. For the first time in years, Jesse woke up feeling excited for a new day. There was the prospect of something waiting for him later, something good, if he decided he wanted to take up the offer.

Jesse startled a bit when a hand touched his back, though he relaxed when he recognized who it belonged to. Genji looked up at him, hair mussed and eyes tired. There was a spark of happiness to them that Jesse hadn’t seen in a long, long time.

“Good morning.”

“‘Mornin’. Pretty sunrise, huh?”

Genji hummed as he turned his gaze outward, Jesse stubbing out his cigar.

“It is quite beautiful.”

“You think it’ll be just as nice in Gibraltar?” Jesse asked, the cyborg’s stare snapping back to him.

“Jesse, you mean...”

“I never could say no to you, hon. ‘Sides, Overwatch doesn’t sound half bad. We can be the good guys for once.”

Genji blinked, then smiled like the sun itself. He threw himself at Jesse, squeezing him in a hug and burying his head in the cowboy’s chest. Jesse wrapped his arms around Genji gently, accepting it like he used to. Like he could learn to again.

“You really will come back with me...?” Genji whispered, disbelieving but hopeful. Jesse chuckled softly.

“Yeah. Yeah, I will. I’ve been debatin’ it for a while now. Just didn’t have the motive to go before.”

“Thank you, Jesse...”

“Nah, thank you. It’s...I think we can do some good with this.”

Genji nodded, pulling back still with a smile.

“I missed you, Genji.” Jesse murmured, reaching up to trace his thumb over Genji’s chin.

“And I you, Jesse. I...I’m glad I found you again...”

The cowboy gave him a little grin, then leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

“Thank you for finding me.”

“Always.”

#mcgenji #jesse mccree #genji shimada #after the reunion short #overwatch #WhiskeyWrites #fanfic #long post #sorry it took so long!#the flow is a little weird but I was getting a block while writing #so I just wanted to get it out

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were-dragon · 6 years ago

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The second and final chapter of Life's a Game, and the prompt fill for day 3 of Peapod McHanzo Week. This time from Jesse's point of view. What happened after they got back to their own world.

You can find chapter 1 here

Words: 4+ k

Rating: T

Pairings: Jesse McCree/Hanzo Shimada

Tags: alternative title: from their universe to ours and back again, Getting Together, Feels, Dimension Travel, Crack Treated Seriously, this was supposed to be a fun trip, oh boy was I wrong, Team as Family, Jesse is a bit broken by his past, but then again who of them isn't?

Jesse led many missions in his time with Blackwatch. Not all of them successful but that came with the territory. Not even Morrison had one hundred percent success rate. Not even Reyes. Things just don’t work that way. You win some, you lose some. And you learn to accept it; learn from it if you are smart enough.

But this was the first time he came back with a team broken in a way so new and unique. And they were.

Hell, he was.

Handing over his report to Winston, the scientist let out a huff. “I will be honest with you. After reading the reports the team has handed in, I am not sure what to make of it.”

McCree snorted. “Welcome to the club. Anything new about the element?”

Winston shook his head in a rather defeated manner. “Plenty but nothing that makes any sense. Miss Vasvani is helping me but neither of us is expert on dimensional travel. I doubt one even exists.”

“Talon probably got someone.”

That soured the atmosphere even more.

“Yes. They probably do. It makes the failed mission even bigger loss for us. There could be more about it in that compound.”

McCree shook his head. “Not anymore. They are too smart to keep it in there after we tried to get in. They’ll move it if they hadn’t already.”

Winston took off his glasses then pressed the heels of his palms against his eyes. McCree understood. This was a whole new level of bad and it felt too big for a ragtag group of vigilantes. Because that’s what they are. There wasn’t that many of them, plus they had little to no resources and the PETRAS act was still hanging above their heads.

They were somewhat of a public secret nowadays and the only things keeping them from prison were several carefully hand-picked missions caught on tape and the public opinion leaning in their favor after they helped stop the Russian omnium, which halted the second omnic crisis in its tracks.

It did not help matters they housed people like him, who were still wanted in certain parts of the world. Or all the parts - luckily no one knew about Bastion.

Still, there was no one they could count on their side. Helix might be willing but they couldn’t afford to discredit the only security company they were sure wasn’t in Talon’s pocket.

It made them all feel rather hopeless.

The debriefing and the following meeting was one of the worst McCree had attended. And there were some real shit ones in his past.

Winston sighed and put his glasses back. “I’ll ask Zarya if she would be willing to get in touch with her acquaintance that got us intel on the Maximillien business in Monaco. And we can monitor the compound. Athena?”

“I am already working with Echo on a surveillance network that will alert us if any of the known Talon associates is sighted within a hundred miles of the Tri-Cities compound.”

“Thank you, Athena.”

It wasn’t much but it was something, he guessed.

Winston turned to him and his eyes softened. “Take a break, McCree. You all went through something unimaginable. It’s understandable you all need some time to compartmentalize.”

McCree tipped his hat up and flashed a smile at the gorilla. “Doncha worry about me, pardner. I’m doin’ just fine.” His smile slipped off rather fast as he asked the next question. “You spoke with Lena?”

A pause long enough to give McCree all the answers he needed. “She is… copping,” Winston went with in the end. “I think Genji and Zenyatta are a big help, or so I gathered. She took it hard when it happened and being reminded of, and it in this way, well...”

McCree felt for her. “It wasn’t her fault, Winston. There wasn’t a single thing she could have done except die and even that would only delay it.”

“I know that!” Winston growled angrily before wincing. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry, I get it.”

Winston looked so tired right now, McCree felt almost guilty for bringing it up. It reminded him what they saw in the other world. His fight to protect them from Talon. His unmasked loneliness. Good god, this was making him feel so much worse; he needed a stiff drink.

“As we are on the topic. Mercy’s report had mentioned something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Dammit, Angela! McCree thought. He should have left when he had the chance, what a rookie mistake!

“Thank you.” Winston interrupted his inner tirade. McCree waited for a bit but nothing else came.

“Um, yer welcome.” It came out sounding nearly as a question. Was he not going to ask why McCree chose not to join Echo?

Winston chuckled. “That’ll be all. Go rest, cowboy.”

Relieved, McCree tipped his hat to him and get out of there as fast as possible without it coming off as rude.

But he was still moving fast enough that when he collided with another body outside the door, they both ended up losing their balance and Jesse only so-so managed to twist them so he would be the one cushioning the fall. That meant he was now sitting on the floor with a pang in his ass and an armful of not so pleased assassin.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time.

“McCree!”

“Hello there, darlin’. Fancy seein’ you here.”

Hanzo scowled at him before detangling himself from Jesse’s arms and pushing himself up.

“Sorry about that,” McCree added a smidgen more sheepish. “Didn’t see you there, archer.”

“I noticed.”

“Well, yer in a mood today,” McCree grumbled but he guessed he couldn’t quite blame the man. In all honesty, Hanzo was about as much out of sorts as the rest of them. Well, except for Satya, she was far too excited about their discovery to be frazzled by something so mundane as a shift of paradigm.

Hanzo dusted himself and picked the gourd McCree didn’t notice lying next to them.

Ah. “You heading to the roof?”

“Yes.”

“...want maybe some company?”

Hanzo peered up at him with narrowed eyes and Jesse tried his best not to show how much he wanted to hear a yes.

“Alright,” Hanzo allowed in the end, gesturing for the cowboy to follow. And follow he did. He hadn’t had much trouble with Hanzo’s brisk pace as his legs were longer but it gave him a hint about Hanzo’s state of mind. Clearly, he wasn’t the only one in a need of a drink today.

They got up to the lower roof where they usually met for a drink. Normally it was a nice and sunny with one or two spots of shade for when it was too hot. Today the sky was overcast and the wind was tugging at Jesse’s serape.

Hanzo waited for nothing; settling down and taking a long swing from the gourd.

Jesse joined him a bit slower, leaving enough space between them as to not disturb Hanzo’s personal bubble but close enough he wouldn’t have to lean sideways to reach the bottle.

As expected, Hanzo thrust the gourd at him not thirty seconds later. McCree took it with thanks and drank.

Sake. No surprise there. And not even the good stuff.

He waited before they exchanged the bottle a few times before asking. “Wanna talk ‘bout it?”

“Not particularly.”

That’s fair. “Alright. Mind if we talk about something else?”

Hanzo turned to him, head leaning slightly to one side. “About what?”

McCree chuckled humorlessly. “The shit creek we are paddlin’ up in.”

Hanzo frowned in understanding. “Talon.”

“Talon,” Jesse nodded, reaching for the alcohol again. Hanzo parted with it without protests. “This is big, Hanzo. Maybe too big.”

The archer hummed.

“I mean, we have no idea, none, about how far they are with it. They could be doing it by themselves, probably are. But look what Symmetra could do with it on the spot. If they join up with Vishkar?”

“Their rhetoric would fit well with it,” Hanzo allowed. And wasn’t that another kettle of fish altogether.

“Yeah. I just-” He cut himself off. He hated himself for thinking this. But this felt too familiar. Last time he felt this trapped, this hopeless? He left Overwatch because of it. “This might be a bite too big for us to chew.”

Hanzo did not reply, instead, he stared at the dark sea on the horizon, huddling into himself as the wind picked up on strength and passed the gourd to Jesse in silence. McCree took it and drank.

What the hell are they going to do?

When the knock on the door came McCree was, so to speak, knees deep in old reports. He asked Athena to get him all Blackwatch reports bound in some way to the Tri-Cities compound she could get her figurative hands on. He even suggested her, with no small amount of trepidation, to ask Morrison about it. After fours days she downloaded a hefty load of data on his personal tablet, yet it was only a fraction of the reports he hoped for.

But he was not surprised she couldn’t get to them. They were either kept as evidence under air-tight locks or destroyed. Either way, he had to do with what she could find.

He meticulously combed through the pages upon pages, trying to find anything that could be useful to them but so far no luck. The only things he got from it so far were sore back and tired eyes.

He very nearly ignored the door in favor of finishing the last report of the Reykjavik incident but then put it away and with a groan got up from the bed.

When the door opened, no one was there.

“What the-” He stuck his head out to look around but the short hallway in front of his room was empty. He wanted to go back in when he glanced down and noticed the tray of food.

Chuckling, he picked it up, took it in and put it on the bed, pushing the tablet aside for the time being. It was a couple of thick sandwiches, apple, a bottle of water and next to it a steaming hot cup of coffee. Oh, and a small cup of red jello with a sticky note on it.

Eat. Fool.

He grinned at it. Guess a short break could do no harm.

Jesse almost jumped out of his skin when a sneaky green cyborg ninja dropped out of nowhere right next to him. He coughed up half a lung trying the get the cigar smoke out.

Genji next to him had the gal to laugh at him.

“Whaddaya want, asshole?” Jesse asked eventually, snuffing out the rest of the cigar and tossing it into the bin next to him. He lost his taste for it.

“So rude,” the ninja tutted and McCree scowled at him. The man was missing his helmet, his green hair sticking out in all directions as if he was running his fingers through it. “I have wanted to speak with you. Can’t I miss my best friend?”

Jesse squinted at him. “Whaddaya want?” He asked again, this time much more suspicious.

Genji rolled his eyes. “I wished to ask you how you’ve been. We haven’t had much chance of speaking since-”

Yeaah, that was true. But Jesse knew from Hanzo Genji was doing fine. He would’ve talked with the ninja if he suspected the man needed it.

“I suppose we haven’t,” he allowed. “It’s been busy. I don’t think Winston slept at all in the past week.”

“I suspect you are right. But have you?”

McCree laughed but when he looked around Genji’s expression was serious. “What? Do I look that terrible?”

The slight hesitation made him internally wince. That would be a yes, then.

“I am worried about you, Jesse. You have been spending most of your time in your room, going through the old reports - yes, Athena told me. I am not sure when was the last time you joined us for a meal.”

“Genji, I appreciate the concern but-”

“You stopped going to the shooting range with Hanzo.” Genji interrupted him in a deadpan tone.

Oh.

“This is important, Genji,” he tried again but less sure now. Damn, he didn’t even realize he missed the standing meet up on the training range he had with Hanzo. Was he at it that long?

“It is. I know it is. But you do not have to do it by yourself! Let us help, Jesse.”

He kicked the ground and sighed. “Ya can be real pain in the butt, ya know that?” he said to Genji but anyone could hear the fondness in his voice. The ninja certainly did as he flashed a bright grin at him.

“I have been reliably informed, we both are.”

Jesse snorted. He could guess who said that one. Jesse will have to find a way to make the missed training up to Hanzo.

He found the archer sitting in the sun in a quiet part of Bastion’s garden where the omnic made a space for any visitors who would decide they wish to spend time there. It was a considerate thing to do and Hanzo took him up on the unspoken offer of quiet space rather often.

Most of the time the omnic could be found puttering about, beeping softly at the plants and insects in there. This time it was only Hanzo there.

“Howdy, pardner.”

The archer did not move a muscle, his back straight and eyes closed, despite the fact he had to hear Jesse coming. The only thing moving was his hair and the golden ribbon holding them up.

“McCree.”

He rubbed the back of his neck with his flesh hand. “I wanted to apologize. Fer ditching our practice.”

“You have been busy. I understand.” Hanzo’s tone was mild as if he was only half paying attention to him. Which was fair, Jesse supposed.

“Maybe, um, I could make it up to ya?”

This time the archer did move, turning his head to look at McCree. “What do you propose?”

McCree smiled at him. “What would you say on a sparring session? I could do with some exercise.”

Hanzo arched an eyebrow at him, his eyes falling lower before snapping back up. He nodded curtly. “Very well.”

“Great! Let’s go then.”

“Right now?” Hanzo asked slightly startled.

McCree grinned at him. “Why waste time?”

They made their way to the gym where McCree already prepared the mats in hope of Hanzo saying yes. The archer gave him a look and Jesse just shrugged, unrepentant.

He was already wearing his sparing clothes, only taking off his hat, so he gave Hanzo moment to take off his sweater and toe off his boots. For some reason, the archer preferred wearing his armored boots over something more comfortable, only scoffing when Jesse suggested it some months back.

He caught himself lingering on parts of Hanzo’s body as the archer stretched before they got to the sparing itself. The way the muscles of his arms moved with the stretch, how the hem of the shirt rode up and revealed the waistband of his trousers but nothing more when he raised his arms, making McCree both grateful and regretful.

It made him think about Hanzo shutting him down in that convention center. They didn't talk about it. Probably should have but didn’t. Hanzo seemed to chose to pretend that part of their mission never happened and Jesse didn't want to push.

But ignoring it didn’t make it disappear. Especially, when they were spending time together one on one.

“Ready?” Hanzo asked and McCree forced himself out of that particular headspace. Not the time, not the place. But damn if he didn’t wish it was.

Only much later when they were both tired and sweating through their shirts, and he watched Hanzo take his things and head out of the gym to take a shower, he let himself consider maybe he should push.

He bent to pick up his hat from where he left it but something shiny caught his attention. On the brim, there lay a small metal keychain. It was shaped like a speech bubble with text reading ‘It’s HIGH NOON somewhere in the world’ and it had what could only be a Peacekeeper next to it pointing up.

And as much as the other world weirded him out, he couldn’t stop the pleased grin spreading on his face. He should definitely push.

He walked into the mess hall where the dinner was about to start, today courtesy of Lucio who promised them feijoada. His great-grandfather's recipe. ‘Best in Rio, cowboy!’ Most of the agents were already there.

He looked around, noticing Lena was one of the few missing ones. Probably on the phone with Emily. McCree hoped so, at least. He wished Emily could come down but she was halfway across the world and in the middle of a job.

A loud, delighted noise caught his attention. At the table, Genji was showing Hana something that clearly excited her.

“Oh em gee that is so cuuute!”

Genji chuckled. “I know, right? I showed it to Master Zenyatta and he loved it.”

“Duh, look at him being all adorable and glowy! Man, how many stickers do you have?”

“Sixteen. I lost count at the time, they just kept giving me stuff. Look at this.”

He pulled out from behind him a small green- was that a plush dragon?

The sound Hana made was more for dogs ears and McCree arched his eyebrows.

“They really gave you all that stuff?” He asked in hope of being distracted from his own gloomy musings.

“They did. Clearly, my costume was exceptional.” He was smirking behind that mask, McCree just knew it. “Oh! And look at this. It’s the best one.” He pulled out a small sticker with cartoony looking Hanzo that- wait.

“Are those chicken legs?” McCree asked incredulously.

Genji choked on a laugh, his shoulders shaking a little. “Absolutely.”

The whole thing was made in that over the top cutesy style, a wide-eyed Hanzo with honest to god chicken legs looking up at a row of text, ‘What is a leg day?’.

Hana snorted.

“Oh come on,” Jesse felt the need to defend the archer despite the urgent tugging in the corners of his mouth. “They aren’t that thin. Maybe his ankles are a bit delicate but not that bad.”

They attracted some more attention now and even Lucio came over to look.

“Oh man, this is great! Do you have some more?”

Genji obliged, showing again what more he managed to squirrel away on their last mission.

McCree stepped back with a shake of his head but he was smiling now. It was good to know at least some were able to shake the experience off.

“It is good to see you smile again, my friend.” Zenyatta’s voice came from behind him. He turned to look at the floating omnic and gave a nod in greeting.

“Looks like Genji’s doin’ well.”

Zenyatta hummed in agreement. “We had talked about what happened on your last mission.”

“You doin’ okay?”

“I have come to terms with what happened to my brother. I mourn him still but unlike our future, past cannot be changed.”

McCree let out a breath. He wasn’t sure how Zenyatta helping Lena would impact the omnic. “Thank you. For helping Lena, I mean. Can’t be easy for ya.”

“To ease a friend’s pain is one of the few uncomplicated things in one’s life. Though not always easy, I will grant you that.”

“Yeah. You talked with the others as well?”

Zenyatta moved to be able to see around McCree; Genji was still laughing at something and now even Ana, Mei, and Fareeha joined in. Reinhardt took over the food, bringing the prepared dishes to the counter.

“With some.” The monk turned to look at him. “Did you have someone particular in mind?”

McCree tried to tell himself it was just the hot air coming from the kitchen that made him feel warmer. “Nah. Not really.”

Zenyatta hummed again and to Jesse, it sounded perfectly neutral. Which meant it was anything but.

“How are you feeling, McCree?”

“I suppose as well as can be expected. Not gonna lie, not too keen on the whole parallel universe thing. And even less on the traveling part.”

“Understandable. It is not an easy thing to accept.”

“Oh, I can accept it. Just not too happy what it could mean for us.”

“You believe us to be in danger?”

McCree scoffed. “Aren’t we always?”

Zenyatta nodded, looking down on his intertwined fingers. “I understand. We are to die then?”

“What? No!” McCree very nearly flailed. Where did this come from?

“It must be dire if it weighs so heavily on your mind. From what Genji told me, and from my own observations, you are not one to lose hope easily.”

“I never said it’s hopeless, just shitty, is all.”

“Well then,” Zenyatta perked up next to him, looking at him with his head tilted to one side, “there is no need for you to worry so much. As you said yourself, it is not hopeless. You have beaten worse odds, haven’t you? As did many others here. Trust in our combined strengths, it is not only up to you alone.”

McCree stared. Did he- Had that sneaky omnic played him? He huffed out a laugh. “Well said, Master Zenyatta.” He tipped his hat to him. The omnic patted his shoulder in a consoling gesture and floated to the laughing group, leaving McCree to shake his head after him.

Maybe he has a point. This wasn’t the old Overwatch. This time his family wasn’t turning against him.

Jesse stared into the fridge at the neatly packed plate of crepes with a sticky note saying ‘COWMAN’. He pulled them out, setting them on the counter next to it and starred some more.

He’d been awake for twenty-six hours now and his brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders but that did very much look like the highly coveted crepes Ana made every once in a blue moon.

He counted. There were four.

Four delicious, succulent, jam-packed crepes. With his name on them.

He kept staring.

“Alright, that’s it,” he huffed when his brain finally took in everything it could, then he forcibly overruled his stomach and put the plate back into the fridge, walking out of the kitchen, and heading straight for the shooting range.

He could hear him before he saw him. The irregular sound of arrows hitting their marks as they appeared. It was too early for anyone else to be in the range so he didn’t even pause, just stepped right in. Walking towards Hanzo.

“Ya know,” he said when he was close enough. “Yer doing it wrong.”

Hanzo turned to him with an incredulous expression. “I beg your pardon?” He let his arms drop a little.

“It only works when you don’t know who the secret admirer is.”

Hanzo turned to him fully, putting one end of the bow on the ground and gripping the other end with both of his hands. He gave McCree a searching look.

“It was not supposed to be a secret.”

Jesse’s heart did not make a celebratory somersault. It did not.

“What’s it supposed to be then?”

Hanzo’s forehead creased, his gaze flicking away before returning to Jesse’s face. “I may have spent some time thinking.”

Jesse was about to make a quip but Hanzo’s narrowed eyes shut his mouth right quick. The archer let out an exasperated sigh and Jesse grinned. Just a little.

“You are impossible. And reckless, and loud, and stupidly self-sacrificial, with atrocious fashion sense.”

“Hey! I have a theme, ‘s different.” Jesse felt little stung but still, the grin wouldn’t go away.

Hanzo’s expression was wholly unimpressed but he continued.

“But I think they were right. We are good together. Despite our flaws and our differences. I do care for you, Jesse.”

Jesse tried to swallow the lump in his throat. It took him two tries before he was confident enough to even try and speak, his voice rough.

“Was hoping you would come around, darlin’. Didn’t expect it to happen this soon, though.” He crossed the remaining distance between them, putting one hand on Hanzo’s, pulling the bow out of the way and with the other raised Hanzo’s chin. The archer let him and wasn’t that a complete rush.

The kiss was chaste and soft. Barely a promise. But it made warmth spread through Jesse from head to the tips of his toes. Hanzo huffed in dissatisfaction and Jesse couldn’t stop the laugh. Leaning in a pressing another, more substantial kiss to those lips. “Guess the mission wasn’t a complete failure.”

In retrospect, he deserved that bite.

Five months later, when the team with the mission to bust Talon’s secret scientific department was boarding the Orca, Jesse had Hanzo at his side and his family at his back.

They would be just fine.

#mchanzo #my fic #peapodmchanzoweek #day 3 #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #genji shimada #tekhartha zenyatta

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razmahdaz-art · 7 years ago

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A Second Chance For More. Chapter 5

Fifth chapter is here! Yay! I think by this point we’re half way through, but don’t worry. There is still gonna be some great moments. Also wanted to say thanks for reading and following me! Means a lot. Anyway, enjoy friends!

12. 12 bombs were recovered around King’s Row, and it took till evening to find them. Hanzo found three more while searching the rooftops before Jesse and Lena located the last remaining two. They were all brought back to the lift, Satya putting everyone in a hard light orb.

“If they do decide to explode, the orbs will diminish the blast drastically,” She informed, wringing her sopping wet hair out. It was late, Nine at night, before they finally got back to their craft. Exhausted, wet, and cold, everyone could say they were miserable. Tenfold for the Talon captive that they had procured from this afternoons chase. Hanzo switched seats with McCree from this morning's flight, Ana wanting to tend to his arm. That, and the fact Hanzo just wanted to sit away from people. Everyone else was occupied anyway, Lucio taking notes on what Ana was doing, Jesse just looking bothered from being poked and prodded, Fareeha looking for god knows what in the back, Lena was piloting and Satya returned to her hard light fiddling. And Hanzo blocked out all of it, lost in his own mind that had slowing began to remember.

How he did it. How he hacked his brother bit by bit, stabbing, slashing, carving. How he had to wash his skin until his skin started to peel just to rid of the scent of his brothers blood. How every night, Genji’s slashed face was the only thing he’d see. He remembered it all, felt every feeling like it happened yesterday. His mind kept telling him he’s was better, that he was improving and fixing things, but the part of his head that he thought he’d silenced had started speaking again. He was frozen in his seat, just staring. He’d stopped when a pair of dark coloured fingers snapped in front of eyes.

“Hanzo? Did you want one?” The muscular women asked, staring with some concern in her eyes. He shook his head a small bit before he looked at her, not even hearing her question. “Want What?” He asked, finally being brought back to reality. Fareeha held a stack of blankets, one being offered to him. “Blanket. You looked cold,” She said before moving it towards him a bit, as if she were asking again. He nodded, taking the blanket and wrapping it around him quickly. It wasn’t incredibly dense or warm, but it was dry. His hoodie had been strung up to dry just leaving him with a wet t-shirt and jeans. “You alright? You seemed a bit distracted,” She mentioned, giving another blanket to Satya. She even glanced towards him. His hand moved to the scarf that held his hair up and he pulled it away, his wet hair drooping down. “I’m fine. I just desire to be alone,” He stated, tying the ribbon around his wrist to distract himself. “Alright. Just ask if you need anything,” Fareeha offered as she gave the rest of the blankets out.

Ana had finished with Jesse, but he didn’t move from his spot. No one really did. Ana and Fareeha drifted off to a somewhat light sleep while Lucio was distracted by Satya’s playing (to which Hanzo overheard was called ‘Stimming’). Hanzo’s head rested back and he breathed deep, the constant looming of his thoughts just barely at bay. He tugged the blanket around him a little tighter to keep warm, his hands clutching the fabric just over his chest. His eyes closed, exhaustion taking over for the remaining hours of the flight, just wanting to do nothing more than escaping this crowded setting.

They landed, Fareeha having to wake Hanzo up with a gentle shake. The blanket still hung around his shoulders as he helped take the bomb encased orbs out of the ship and into a large, blast resistant box that Winston had brought to the hanger to safely transport them to his lab. “Might be a great idea to tell local authorities about what we found, in case we missed some,” Jesse said, stretching his back from hours in one not very comfortable seat. “Of course! First order of business. Second is making sure these aren't armed,” Winston hummed, closing the lid of the container and securing the lock on it. A few people were waiting in the hanger for the groups return, one being Genji, who rushed to his brother side the moment they were done with business. He had his mask off.

“Welcome back! How’d it go? Was it boring? Did you die?” He asked, a joking smile on his face. His hand went to rest on his siblings arm, to which Hanzo jerked back a bit. The younger’s face went from mischievous to confused, his hands just hovering a bit unsure what to do. “You alright? Did something happen?” He asked, his voice full of concern. “I’m fine. I just...want to go to sleep,” Hanzo almost barked back, lying through his teeth. He started to walk away, avoiding as many people as possible. Genji watched his brother leave, just standing there as he spoke to Jesse. “Did something happen?” He repeated the question to him, raising a his eyebrow in his direction. “No idea,” McCree responded, lighting a cigarillo as he too started to leave the hanger. Everyone went their own directions, to the kitchen, to the rec room, or straight to their respective bunks. Genji was left with wonderment, hoping that his brother was actually alright.

He wasn’t. Hanzo locked himself in his room, all the terrible thoughts flooding his head. Genji’s face was the only thing he saw when he closed his eyes and it hurt. Why did the that cowboy have to be right? Why did Hanzo care? He thought he was over this, he thought that after all the weeks, months that he was over this, that he had improved. And in a few sentences, it seemed to come undone. He didn’t sleep that night, afraid of the all too familiar dreams to come cascading back to him.

This went on for weeks. Missions with or without Jesse, Hanzo turned cold to his team. Talks like the one with Ana a rarity in the coming assignments. Even outside of work, Genji began to notice that Hanzo didn’t attend their usual afternoon chats like he used to. And when he did, it wasn’t much of a chat at all. Whenever Genji brought up what was troubling his sibling, he’d deny or change the topic instantly. Not to mention Hanzo didn’t even train with his brother anymore, favouring for training at odd hours and alone. Something was wrong and Genji was dead set on finding out what. He interviewed everyone on his team, determined to get to the bottom of this. And everyone said the same thing, that they’d been nothing but nice to him. Lena, on the other hand, said she last saw him with Jesse before he started acting like this.

At first, Genji just asked Jesse if he was doing or saying anything, to which he denied fully. But all that changed when Genji was helping Winston sort through some recordings from a decently tough mission. Straight into a warzone, Hanzo and Lucio had been brought in as backup to the Offense team. Fareeha taking heavy damage, Reinhardt’s jet on his armour completely destroyed, and Brigette was out cold. Lucio rushed to where everyone was, ducked in a little corner for as much cover as possible while Hanzo covered him with constant arrow fire. Since only four agents had their cameras, but it was enough for Genji to catch glimpses of actions that proved Jesse was lying. No sound was needed to show Jesse almost shouting Hanzo, his brother retorting back. It was made worse when Hanzo dared to rush to Reinhardt’s aid just to be shot at by Talon agents. He retreated and Genji could almost imagine what he said, making his brother slink to the back of the group so McCree could instead assist Rein. These little exchanges made the remaining blood in Genji’s body boil. He couldn’t believe he’d let this gone on since July. It was September.

Before he could say anything, Genji darted out of Winston’s lab to find Jesse and hopefully put an end to this.

Jesse was in the training area, like usual, firing round after round at oncoming targets without missing a shot. Genji watched for a few short minutes for the doorway behind him, thinking he wasn’t scene.

“Ya know, you ain’t as sneaky as you think you are,” Jesse said, turning his body to face the younger shimada. “Neither are you, McCree,” He replied, walking over to Jesse slowly. He made sure no one else was in the room with them, even in the hall, before he started to talk.

“I thought you said you weren’t bothering Hanzo,” He accused, and McCree’s face instantly dropped to a more defensive expression. “And I haven’t been,” He replied. Genji removed his face plate and his face only held annoyance and hatred. Something McCree hasn’t seen in years. “That’s bull shit and we both know it! Now Confess,” He demanded, his hand grabbing McCree’s shirt and holding him firm in place. Jesse grumbled, Genji having to strike his hand against his chest before he spoke directly.

“Fine! Fine, yes, I've been giving him shit but he deserves it!,” He defended himself. The other down right slammed him into the wall and pinned him, his arm holding his throat in one place. Jesse may have been bigger, but no one could escape this ninja’s death grip. Jesse choked a bit, his trachea being pushed against, even if just a little. How!? How does my brother deserve it!?”

“I don’t know where you’ve been for the past decade, I mean, look at you! Look what he did to you! I was there, and i saw how terrible it was. That man ain’t right!” Jesse choked out, earning another press on his throat. “That ‘man’ is still my brother!” He shouted, staring the other down. His eyes turned a deep red, slightly glowing.

“He’s a Murderer!”

“We All Are!”

They stood there, silence falling between the two. Genji’s grip let up on the other, but not enough for Jesse to make his escape. Neither said a word for minutes, not really wanting too. Jesse made an attempt to move, just to be shoved back to his original position. That was when Genji spoke.

“Listen, Jesse. He may have destroyed my body, and part of my mind, but in turn, he did the same. It took years to even find him, more to talk to him again. I fought tooth and nail for him to be back in my life, and I’m not about to let him walk back out of it just because of your relentless comments.” Jesse looked at Genji surprised, not seeing the side of Genji ever in his life. He remained silent while receiving his lecture. “I ask of you to either Apologize for your delinquent like actions, or just completely step out of our lives. I’m not asking you to like him, I’m asking you to let him recover.” He hissed, finally letting the other go. Jesse’s hand went to his throat, rubbing were Genji had held him for so long. The cyborg walked towards the door, leaving Jesse to his thoughts before saying one final piece.

“Of all the people here, I expected you to give Hanzo a second chance more than anyone. After all, you got one after all you did.” His hand pulled his face plate back on, his visor illuminating a neon red that shifted to green. He left after that, and Jesse couldn’t have felt worse.

It wasn’t hard to find Hanzo. Everyone basically knew where he had been going at night to drink. McCree knew it especially since it’s where he used to go back in the day. Just a little ledge above the cliffs where one could be alone for hours and not be bothered by anyone. The night had fallen over the base, a gentle and cold breeze chilling the air. Hanzo was leaning against a few boxes, drinking straight from a Sake bottle. Jesse walked up the stairs behind the ledge he sat on, his spurs jingling as he walked. He didn’t need to say anything to alert Hanzo to his presence.

“What?” He hissed, his head turning just to see the other out of the corner of his eye. Hat in his hand, Jesse took a few more steps before speaking. “Wanted to talk,” He drawled, fixing his jacket a bit. It really wasn’t summer anymore. “Talk? Or insult?” Hanzo let out. Jesse took in a breath, debating on completely leaving. But he didn’t, Genji’s talk striking guilt into him more powerful than any snarky comment that could be thrown at him.

“More like...Apologizing,” He said finally. Hanzo’s head turned and he gave Jesse his full attention. He took this as his queue to speak. “I’ve been...Less than reasonable. Said things i had no place in saying. I gave it some thought, and...I shouldn’t be judging you. We’ve all got shit to sort through. I ain’t any better than you,” He said, putting his hat back onto his head. Hanzo looked him up and down, his eyes squinting a bit. “Did Genji put you up to this?” he asked, making Jesse nod a bit. “That obvious?” He replied.

Hanzo turned his gaze back to the waves that crashed against the rocks below, taking a long sip from his bottle. He barely noticed when Jesse took a seat on a couple boxes just to his left. He just did the same, looking out onto the dark sky, stars, and almost calm ocean. He heard the slightest twist of metal before just quickly looking at McCree, taking out a flask and taking a sip from it. “He may have sat me down and talked to me about this, but i really am sorry,” He said, offering his flask to the other. Hanzo just looked at him suspiciously. “He brought up some good points, and i remembered that I’m in the shit as much as you are. I had no right. Hell, i might’ve lost the ones i had from the way i was acting,” he admitted, taking another, much longer sip from his flask this time.

“That’s a good apology. I’m not sure if I'll accept it, though,” Hanzo stated coldly, taking a sip from his own bottle. “Didn’t expect you too. Just thought it’d put your mind at ease, knowing I ain’t gonna be harping on ya anymore,” He responded, standing from his spot. Hanzo watched him as he fixed his hat and then his jacket, shaking a bit in an attempt to warm himself. “You’ve been making progress, Hanzo. I’m sorry I went and just about ruined it all for ya,” He apologized one more time, patting Hanzo on his shoulder before he began to walk back to rejoin the others. “Just hope to make things right.” And like that, Hanzo was alone again, to his thoughts and the others words. He’d be lying to himself if he said he didn’t accept the apology. But he decided to keep that to himself. He closed his bottle and gathered himself, before leaving the perch.

For the first time since he’s gotten there, he joined the others in the Rec room for the night, sitting with Genji and some others, entering half way through a movie that they’d all decided to watch. It was warm again, those negative clouds in his head starting to part again. Maybe redemption wasn’t far off after all.

#mchanzo #genji shimada #hanzo shimada #jesse mccree #overwatch #fanfiction #a shorter chapter #they can't all be 5000 words #but I like this chapter #get into the thick of it #I now have a few scenes I wanna draw #we'll see #more action in the near future!#and some more headcanons #my writing #A Second Chance For More

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thefloorisbalaclava · 7 years ago

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The Hunter and the Hunted - Jesse McCree x Reader

A/N: I have no self-control. Once I saw his new skin and heard his voice line, I had to write this. I hope you all like it.

Words: 2,117 Warnings: None

It had been a while since you had seen anyone from Overwatch. After you had disbanded, you all went your separate ways without so much as a goodbye so getting this flyer about a Halloween/reunion party was a shock to say the least. You wouldn’t mind seeing some of your old comrades in arms again, but would anyone else actually show up? You loved Halloween and having something to do this year really made it better, you only hoped it wasn’t a bust.

If you wanted to be honest, you had missed quite a few of them and had always wondered what most of them were up to. You had heard about what happened to Gabriel and Jack and you wanted to see the rest of them before something like that happened again. At least this wouldn’t be some awkward, stuffy reunion. You all would be having fun – drinks, food, and costumes. What could go wrong?

In the days leading up to the party/reunion, you found yourself getting more nervous. You hadn’t seen any of these people in years and who knew what they would think of you? You were most concerned with how one person in particular would view you now. You smiled as you thought back to your puppy love. Every time that cowboy smiled at you your heart skipped a beat and you had always wondered if his did the same when you smiled at him.

Your phone rang, showing a number you didn’t recognize on the caller ID. Usually, you didn’t answer unknown numbers, but for some reason today you decided to.

“Hello?” you answer.

“Hey there,” a slightly accented, female voice responds. “It’s Pharah.”

“Pharah…oh my god! How have you been?”

“I’m well. I can’t believe I found you. I was calling to see if you were attending our little reunion this weekend.” As if she could sense your nervousness, she added, “I will be there.”

“I will, too. Are you wearing a costume?”

“Of course…and don’t ask what I’m going as because it’s surprise.”

“Fine, mine is a surprise too. So, I’ll see you on Saturday.” You were about to hang up when a sudden wave of emotion hit you, “It’s going to be so nice seeing everyone again. Thanks for calling.”

“I’m only sorry I didn’t call sooner. It makes me sad that it took a party to get us all together again, but at least it will make things less awkward for a few of us.” After some silence, she speaks again, “Do you still have a crush on McCree?”

You scoff, “Don’t be ridiculous, Pharah. How long has it been? He probably doesn’t even remember my name.”

“Okay but I’m asking you the question, not him.”

After starting and stopping a few times you finally figure out what to say, “It doesn’t matter. He wouldn’t recognize me, especially since I’ll be in costume.”

“You’re avoiding the question, but I understand. I’ll see you on Saturday…and yes, Jesse will be there.” Before you could respond, the line went dead and you stood there, mouth agape, holding the phone to your ear.

Jesse will be there…

SATURDAY

You had been sitting in the hovercar outside the venue for at least half an hour without moving. Your heart felt like it was about to beat out of your chest. At one point, you felt as though you were suffocating so you had to roll the window down. It didn’t help that your costume required a corset and that was cutting off enough of your air in the first place. You were starting to think this was a bad idea when your phone rang.

“Where are you?” Pharah asks on the other end. “You said you’d be here.”

“I am…” Your voice sounded so small.

“Where?” You just so happened to look out the window when she asked and saw a woman dressed as Cleopatra looking around exasperatedly. Suddenly, she looks in the direction of your hovercar. “Wait, is that you there?” She points to your car and you sink down in the seat.

“No, I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I saw you! Get out here now or I’m coming to get you.” You knew that it wasn’t a threat, it was a promise. You sigh and open your door slowly, reluctantly. “Move it!” she shouts and hangs up.

You walk over to her slowly and she bounces up and down excitedly. When you’re close enough, she grabs you and pulls you to her for a hug. “Don’t you dare make me cry. This makeup took forever to put on,” you say, fighting back tears.

“Same here, you jerk.” She pulls away and looks at you, “Well, don’t you look sexy. Jesse’s gonna love you, I mean, it…your costume.”

“Pharah, this isn’t for him.” You turn away and slip the fake fangs into your mouth, “There.”

“What or who are you supposed to be anyway?” she asks.

“I’m a vampire, duh!” you say, pointing to the fangs. “Get it together, Cleopatra,” you tease and she nudges you. She takes your hand and pulls you along until you enter a ballroom that has been decorated wonderfully. Black and light orange balloons float in the air, fitting the Halloween vibe and the colors for Overwatch. Silly decorations hung from the rafters and balcony – witches and bats and ghosts. You were so busy staring up that you hadn’t heard Pharah calling your name.

“Still avoiding the question, huh?” she asks.

“Wait, what?”

“I said Jesse is on his way.” She gauges your reaction, but you must not have reacted the way she wanted because she frowned. “Aren’t you excited?”

“Yes, I mean, I guess.” You shrug and look down. “I’m more nervous than anything.” You had to speak a little louder since music had started to play.

“Well, don’t be. You look great and I know he can’t wait to see you. I’ll go get us something to drink, you need to loosen up a bit. Be right back!”

“Pharah, wait-!” Your grip on her arm wasn’t enough and she walks off. She runs into a group of people and starts talking to them, leaving you there looking silly. You thought this was a good time to go find a bathroom and make sure you still looked okay. On your way in, you run into another woman and begin apologizing profusely.

“Well, hello you!”

“Tracer?!” You hug her tightly and now you needed to check your makeup because you couldn’t stop the tears from flowing this time. “How have you been?”

“I’m great, love. How are you? You look great!”

“Thank you! I’m good.” She must have seen the uneasiness on your face.

“You sure about that?” She moved closer to you and looked into your eyes.

“Yes, I just need to use the bathroom.”

“Oh, right, of course! Come and talk to me when you’re done!” She skips away and you walk into the bathroom. You look into the mirror, happy to see that your makeup had stayed intact for the most part. You peek out of the bathroom before stepping out and putting your fangs back in. After a few deep breaths, you step back into the ballroom where the party had picked up a little.

“You look like you could use this,” Pharah comes up to you handing you one of the drinks in her hand. You take a sip and cough a bit. “You always were a lightweight,” she teases.

“Shut up.” You sip a little slower next time. You had to be careful, this was one strong drink.

“Jesse’s here, by the way,” she says as if she was telling you it was raining outside.

“He what?” you ask although you heard her just fine.

“He’s here. Went outside for a smoke.” This was your chance to run and hide somewhere. You felt hot and uncomfortable all the sudden. You hand her your empty glass and tell her you need some air.

“Which way did he go?” She points to the left exit so you take the right, making sure you wouldn’t have any awkward run ins. You pull the fake fangs off your teeth once again as you push the door open and breathe in the cool air. You sit on the bench and start talking to yourself.

“What would I even say to him? ‘Hey Jesse, how’s it going? How are things? How have you been?’” You scoff and slouch down on the bench. “He would laugh right in my face. He probably still thinks of me as the girl with the silly little crush on him.” You chuckle at that. “Handsome devil…”

“I hear ya, pumpkin,” a familiar voice says and you jump, sitting up straight again. “I am one handsome devil, ain’t I?” You turn towards the voice slowly and almost gasp out loud. If you weren’t sitting you probably would have fallen over. “And might I say, you make a pretty fine…whatever it is you’re supposed to be.”

“Th-thank…you.”

“Now, you look like you done seen a ghost or somethin’. It’s only me. Hair’s a little longer for the costume, but I’m thinkin’ about keepin’ it this way. You like it?” He turns so you can see the hair he has tied back under his hat.

“I love you…it…shit.” You hide your face in your hands and groan.

“Still gettin' nervous around me, huh?” He walks over and takes a seat next to you. “You’re even more beautiful than I remember.”

“I am?” you ask, shocked.

“Yes, ma’am.” He sits forward, elbows on his knees, but turns his head so he can look at you as he speaks, “How you been?”

“Good. Great. You?” You were still having trouble looking directly at him so you pretended to be looking at his costume, mainly the crossbow on his back.

“I been good. Could always be better. I gotta say, though, this is one of the best things that has happened to me in a few years.”

“The party?” you ask.

“The party is nice, but I meant seein’ you again.” He looks at you and you look down at your fingers. “I’m sure you got a lot of suitors and whatnot. I’m not tryin’ to push up on ya or anything, but damn if you ain’t the prettiest thing I ever seen.”

“You’re not so bad yourself, Jesse McCree.”

He puts a hand over his heart, “My name sounds just lovely comin’ from you, but I’m afraid you made a little mistake. You see, tonight I ain’t Jesse McCree. I’m Jesse Van Helsing. Get it?” He stands and poses for you making you giggle. “What’re you supposed to be?”

“I’m afraid to tell you, Mr. Van Helsing.”

“Why’s that?” He puts his hands on his hips and watches as you turn away to put your fangs in.

“Because you’re a vampire hunter and, well, I’m a vampire.” You smile and he lets out that laugh that you remember from all those years ago, that laugh that lit up an entire room.

“I’ll tell you what, you let me take you out some time and I’ll let you ‘accidentally’ escape.” He waits for your answer, rocking back and forth slightly.

“That sounds good to me. It’s about time you asked.”

“You just made my night. Scratch that, my year.”

“And you made mine.”

“Eventually, I will have to…

“Stake my heart, I know.” You stand up so you’re facing him.

“Nah, I could never stake a pretty lil thing like you, but I would like to claim your heart…if you’ll let me.” For the first time while you two have been talking, he looks nervous.

“Jesse, you’ve had my heart for years. It’s yours to claim, stake, break, whatever…”

“There ain’t gonna be no stakin’ or breakin’ from me, I guarantee that.” You nod and he takes your hand, “May I?”

“Yes.” He leads you inside, walking so quickly you almost have to run to keep up. He walks right up to the group Pharah was with. “Would you look at this? I went outside for a smoke and caught me a vampire just like that. A beautiful one, too.” He picks up a glass of bourbon from a tray that a waiter walked by with.

“I thought you were supposed to…stake them,” Pharah says and Jesse chokes on his drink as you hold back a laugh.

“In due time, missy. Right now, I just wanna enjoy the feel of her hand in mine. Is that all right with you, Cleopatra?” he jests.

“Of course it is,” she says, looking right at you and winking.

And it was quite all right with you, too.

#jesse mccree #mccree #mccree x reader #overwatch #overwatch halloween #headcanon

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hot-gothics · 7 years ago

Photo

I am almost an entire month late in doing this, lol, but here it finally is! It's pretty fun to put this all together and see what my focus was for each month~ Thank you all for sticking with me throughout the year and thanks to all the newcomers who've joined me in my journey of art <3 Here's to another great year of art! \o/ I have a lot planned and I'm probably too ambitious, but here we gooooooooOOOOOOOOOOO!! I'm gonna give little blurbs about each month's piece or what I remember going through each month haha, so feel free to read over my ramblings and such >w>

January -

I chose this piece because of the lighting and the expression. I really liked how the torn down wall turned out behind him and overall this is one of the best completed works of that month. It was a hard choice between this one and one with a sunset behind a female crocodile woman, but I ended up choosing this one for the color in the hair and that it was furry while the other one was a human with crocodile features. (both were not my commissions)

February -

This is probably one of the best pictures I've ever done to be honest haha. I still love the idea of it, the layout, the lighting, ALL of it. I even entered it into a scholarship contest and WON. But the best part of that contest was that it was for my university and this is KIRBY FANART xD that still kills me! haha

March -

Every time that I hang out with my friend :userVibrantEchoes: I end up drawing either Kirby or Pokemon stuff and this piece came from one of my sketches I did while hanging out with her. It was really just something I pulled out of files to work on after completing commissions in a stream but I experimented with lighting and I remember switching between two versions of my preferred art program (because a new update was released that changed nearly everything about the main tools I use) in order to get used to how the new version worked. This was a complete experimentation for all kinds of things but it turned out to be the best piece of the month (in my opinion anyway lol)

April -

Apparently April was when I started to get REALLY into Overwatch, haha. All the work I had available to choose from was Overwatch related and most of those were sketches or colored sketch style comics that I had done at the time. So I went with one of my FAVORITE colored sketch pieces where I had included a big ol' essay about Hanzo and how I adored that character and for what reasons, applying all I'd learned in my psychology classes as well as my own personal experience with depression and loss of family and difficulties with siblings to my claims. Then I tied in how McCree works really well as either a good friend or a lover for him based on their pasts. People seemed to LOVE it too! Though I honestly was expecting some sort of hate for that analysis of him but lots of people commented (this feedback is mostly on tumblr, btw) and messaged me about the analysis or left tags on their reblogs about how they were thinking similar things or that I did really well with it. I love getting feedback on anything, but the sheer amount of it for THIS post... it was amazing and totally worth it.

May -

I shipped a few different pairings from Overwatch >w> Pharmercy is also one of them~ This piece was a pun on how Mercy's line in the game says "healing stream engaged" and I put a ring on her finger and titled it "Healing stream (and healer!) engaged!" ...unfortunately no one commented on that :'c

June -

This is around the time that I started switching from drawing BnF artwork to drawing furry art almost exclusively. I had been MAJORLY involved with the BnF roleplay community there for a while and did a lot of work for people on that site between doing my own roleplays. This was done for a dear friend of mine from that site of one of his new characters. Tagging on from the Pharmercy piece in May - I had become really drawn to doing a glow effect for some reason and wanted to do some sort of magic piece. So this one came about. The character himself was a mimic octopus, hence the designs on his skin and the almost tentacle texture to his hair.

July

In July I spent a LOT of time sketching and doodling furry stuff so I didn't really have any "fully finished" things to choose from for this month. After attending Texas Furry Fiesta in March I wanted to get more involved with the furry community but I didn't know how. I downloaded Telegram and tried talking with the artists/friends I had met at the convention but nothing was really sticking with me because I barely knew anyone local. But July was when I found out about the local Texas chats and started attending furmeets and events, made friends, etc. I started making LOTS of stickers for myself of my brand new fursona design to use in the chats (after years of having two separate sonas I combined the species into one that feels like ME rather than characters). Overall it's been a fantastic experience and I've made SO MANY new friends in the local furry community, it's great. BUT! Splatoon 2 had also come out and I discovered Marina because of one of my new furry friends who was/is obsessed with Splatoon and fell in love with her design >w> so I did a little bit of fanart for her during this month~

August -

The last month before school starting up was also the last time that I drew the kemono design of Dimitri with his BnF boyfriend Onnen the elk. At this point I had fully decided that I was moving on from BnF to get more involved with the furry community and I had mostly stopped drawing Overwatch fanart all the time too. I believe my computer was broken at some point and the game had to be deleted, the drive wiped and such. I lost a lot of files that I had been working on... but I didn't re-install the game and ended up not playing anymore because school started up at the end of the month and it was my last semester so I had some pretty big classes that needed my attention more.

September -

I'm really amazed that I had next to NOTHING for this month to choose from. All I had done in September was school work, some Telegram stickers, and maybe some sketches here and there. So what I chose for this month is an example of one of my favorite stickers that I had completed during the month (for Siber) and one of my projects during that month was to use Adobe Illustrator and design a sign or logo then use the laser cutters at the school to both do etching and cutting. And I redesigned my logo from about a year before and included elements that are super important to me (bunny and dragon, since I'm a dragunny, and the star since my last name is Starr). I also created my own font for the actual letters in my username too, which got me big points in my critique in class. It totally went to my head when everyone in there was just blown away with my design of it x3 I was struttin' the rest of the day~

October -

This piece is super emotional for me. As some of you may be aware; I lost my dad a few years ago. For some reason the thought came to mind that when/if I get married I'm not going to have my dad around to dance with me during the traditional father-daughter dance and then I tried to remember if he and I had EVER done that together and I'm pretty sure we never did. Maybe when I was very very young, but I don't remember ever going to anything like a "father-daughter dance". So... this is a drawing of a moment that will never happen. Also - my dad's fursona is a lion with a "chipped" afro, by the way. He loved the character I designed for him too x3 It's just kind of hard to see that in this drawing since it's cropped and he's mostly behind my sona's head

November -

I didn't have much to choose from for this month as I was still super busy with school, but this is when I started getting back into traditional art and began making badges for people~ One of my first commissioned traditional badges was for a local fur and I really like how it came out :3c so that's the one I chose to represent this month! \o/

December -

Another piece with Siber here, haha. But this one had a bunch of elements in it that I really enjoyed doing. There's the "magic" effect with the music around him, the color scheme is super wintery, there's foreground and background elements that I think really make the picture work well, and I really just like this picture haha. I think it's a strong representation of my styles mixed together since all I'd drawn of him up until this point was stickers so I was pretty set into a certain way of drawing this character. But this turned out really well and I just really like it haha

Boy that was a lot of blurbing >-> lolol Thanks for reading if you did! I'd love to read your comments on what month is your favorite or if you had a piece from last year that is definitely one of YOUR favorites that I didn't include (I'm super interested in that actually, please let me know lol) Do you think I chose good work for this? :3c Do you think I over-explained my own reasons behind choosing these? lol Lemme know what you think in the tags or comments or through my inbox! \o/ I DO definitely read all of that ~ ❤❤❤ And thank you again for following me ❤❤❤

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artchoface-blog · 7 years ago

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I met Junkrat’s voice actor and he was the coolest dude, damn!

TL;DR: If you ever get the chance to meet Chris Parson, DO IT. HE’S A PERFECTLY WONDERFUL HUMAN BEING.

Thought I’d just make a longish post about meeting Chris Parson, the voice of Junkrat (and many other characters). Because it really meant a lot to me.

I had no idea he would even be at MegaconTampa, the con I was selling at, until last minute when he tweeted that he was excited to attend it. And YO- as ya’ll know he’s like a unicorn~ rare sightings indeed!

Anywho, Got some photos, and autographs, I made it ‘rain’ for him, or so I joked. XD To be fair, he’s the only person (or thing) I spent any money on at the con because I was also selling there, and trying not to buy anything. I went to him Friday and bought a few autographs (For me and gifts for various ppl who weren't there) and a photo with him. ‘Cause who knows if I’ll get another chance!

Then later that day, I decided just his autograph wouldn't be enough for my best friend. So, I went back to him and asked if I could also get a video gift for @lockwayart as she unfortunately was out of town helping her Mom heal and get better. :< (Her Mom has been fighting hard to beat breast cancer a second time.) And I know how much Lock would have loved to have the chance just to meet him. She’d recently finally achieved Diamond with Junkrat on PS4 so, I thought a congrats message would be perfect!

I got to chat him up a bit as well and asked him a bunch of questions, such as why wasn't he at any cons and how come ‘we’ -fans- never see him anywhere online. (he has literally no presence anywhere). I don't wanna assume anything I have no idea about his life or if he’s more of a private person about personal stuffs! But, I also brought up this photo, as being like the only one I’d ever even seen him in, and he’s allllll the way in the back XD

What he told me that he worked a whole lot and he was also kinda a shy guy. In hindsight, this makes perfect sense. A lot of actors are introverts and they can use acting as a way to be more extrovert. :) He even said he knew what photo I was referring to and said that he had another job to do that day and was kinda rushing it all along lol. He said he came to MegaconTampa because he finally had a whole weekend off. O_O Dang!

So I thanked him for coming to the con and even told him how much it meant to be able just to come up to him and say ‘thank-you.’ It may not mean a lot to voice actors, I’m not sure, but it means a lot to us who connect with the characters they play. It can mean the world when you’re having a rough time of life, and are able to also have a great creative outlet. He was too sweet and so damn nice, he didn’t rush me off and I made sure there was no one else in line that I’d be holding up while I talked to him lol. But I shook his hand and then I was off.

Or so I thought, that night after giving the video to Lock and listening to how happy it made her while she was going through such a tough time I really wanted to go talk to him again. And get another video ahaha, as she couldn't be there in the flesh, I think it was way better to get video than just a photo or autograph. So I asked her what she would like to have him say if she could meet him and she gave me a line she’d love to hear him say to McCree.

Saturday I was working and busy busy so I wasn't able to go see him until Sunday again. My boothmate and I got our table all set up and then once the con started and we found it was off to a slow beginning I decided it was a good time to take leave before the afternoon when more people would arrive. I went over and waited in the line. Again I wanted to make sure no one was behind me so I didn't make anyone wait -I know how that can be to be kept waiting XD- so I told him that I wanted another video, he seemed surprised lol but was totally down! So then I got the second voice line for Lock :D I wrote the quote for him and everything because when I’m excited I talk too fast so ahaha;;; And I thanked him and mentioned off hand that it was for her again, then showed him the messages she’d sent me and told him that it meant a lot and he asked about her situation with her Mom.

So I told him about her having to leave to go back up to Ohio because she needed to help her Mom who’s breast cancer had returned. And then he freaked me out by saying “Can you call her up? Call her and tell her someone wants to talk to her, then let me talk to her?”

And I was like- ?!!?!?!!! YES! WHOA- YES I WILL. I was so nervous I was shaking with excitement! So I called and was like oh god please answer, because I know she has been exhausted and not sleeping much so I was scared she was still asleep at 11am. And when she picked up she was all groggy and I’m like “Hey, hey! Are you awake, wake up I need you to wake up for me! It’s important!” And she was all, “Huh? I’m...ok I’m awake.” Totally sounded half asleep still, lol poor Lock;; I say to her, “I have someone that wants to talk to you!”

So I hand my phone over to him and asdfghjkl; I wish I had a camera separate to also record it. He said in Junkrat’s voice, “Hey there, its Junkrat- how you feelin’ love?” And dude I freekin’ lost it! I legit had tears man!! I was freaking the freak out and I cannot imagine how Lock was taking it on the other end of that call-! I was just like, whoa my god he’s so dang nice man. Then he said some other stuff I cant recall because I was losing my shit trying to keep it together lol. I remember he did switch to his normal voice and was like “Hi its really Chris Parson, and I just I had to talk to you and tell you that I’m sorry you couldn't be here but I hope you’re well and you’re staying strong. Just try not to be stressed, live and laugh and laugh as much as you can because it’ll help okay?”

Dude, tearsssss I was wiping my face so much like, man. It had been a rough time for her the past few months and she just really needed something like this. Fuck he’s so great man! ;___; And after they were done talking he gave me the phone and I told her id call right back. And I thanked him so so soooo much again and then shook his hand again and said I’d be back later in the day for a last photo if that was okay. And he was like hell yeah and so I ran off to like clean my face hahaha. I couldn't stop laughing and smiling so stupidly the whole day. It’s been so long since I’ve had the pleasure of meeting someone so selfless and sweet like that. I was like, cloud 9 all day. I told anybody who crossed the booth to go talk to him, get autographs and photos and man I’m like, dude if I have to I’ll single-highhandedly fund you coming to this con I swear to god. I told all my artist buddies and they agreed that he was amazing and man I just- like, you ever just sit there and think “Shit. There are still nice people in the universe.”

Anyways so, the day flew by of course, I sadly wasn't able to make his panel a hour later as I was the only one at my booth- I do hope it went well tho! But before he left, I ran over when I had the chance to get my last photo, I wanted a fun one this time and not just a normal ‘two ppl awkwardly standing smiling photo’ like usual when ppl get pics with famous/celebs or what-have you hahaha, (plus that was our first pic I got ahahaha!) so we brain stormed for a bit when I told him I wanted a funny pic. We came up with standing under his name/sign and just gesturing like as if to say, ‘Who’s this asshole?’ He was such an amazing sport while he posed with me for it! WHOO!!! I got a couple nice ones but the last one that his helper took was my favorite because I just couldn't keep my own shrug/pose; I was just too happy and laughed! XD

So I’ll show ya’ll that one :P It meant a lot to me that he was so nice, I was also having a bit of a rough time, I’d had surgery earlier in the month, had to flee from hurricane Irma and right after coming home to no electricity, I got bronchitis and the flu while still recovering from the surgery lol. I know so many had it far worse and still do so I sucked it up but man, I super needed a good laugh at least! Which, I got =D

And now, I’ll end this huge blog post with saying that if you ever get the chance to meet him, please please do so! He’s a perfectly wonderful, amazing and great human being! :> Thanks so much again Chris Parson! <3

#chrisparson #chris parson #voiceactor #voice actor #junkrat #overwatch #blizzard #personal #blog entry

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zenyattayatta · 7 years ago

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@nutmeg030 asked: Hey so I had a fic idea that's a pre fall gabe x chubby reader. It was just an idea but I was wondering if the fic could just be short one where the reader is training and the other recruits start making fun of her with out knowing one gabe has a crush on her and two he's right behind them the rest I didn't think of but it's just an idea

You adjust at the waistband of your workout leggings before moving to the ends of your Blackwatch hoodie. Your sneakers squeak lightly as you shuffle outside the door to your commanders office. Though, you’d much rather have him seeing you nicely dressed. It was more convenient to stop by his office before heading to the training hall.

You fuss over the stray hairs on your head before deeming you presentable enough to be in front of your boss. Your knuckles tap at the door lightly, a small ‘come in’ heard from inside.

“Commander Reyes, you wanted to speak to me?” You announce walking through the door of his office. The Commander sits behind his desk, smiling expectantly when his eyes land on you. They trail momentarily at the curves of your body before back your lovely face.

You don’t notice his ogling as McCree sits at one of the chairs before him, leaned back and arms crossed. You maintain eye contact with him as he gives you curt ‘howdy’ followed by your name. Bowing your head forwardly, you do the same.

Reyes calls you, pulling your attention back to the matter at hand. He clears his throat. “I just wanted to congratulate you on the success of your mission. It’s very rare we have little to no difficulties when obtaining information.”

You’re a bit surprised at the praise before beaming at him. “Oh, it wasn’t that hard, Commander.” You assure him, waving your hand dismissively. “Though, I’m not one to turn down praise. By all means, keep that coming.”

Reyes roars in laughter. “Aren’t you a humble one?”

“Learned from the best.” You shrug, a smile playing the ends of your lips. “Is there anything else you have for me, commander?” McCree snorts a bit at the implication that it could be taken as. However, the two of you ignore it.

“No, that was all but you’re more than welcomed to stay.” He offers you the empty chair next to McCree. As tempting as it is, you decline.

“I was hoping to train today.” You rock on your heels a bit sheepishly. “Maybe another time, Commander.”

He seems a bit crestfallen but nods. “Don’t let me keep you then.” His half smile breaks your heart but you salute him, taking your exit shortly after.

“Ya know, I’m pretty sure you ain’t suppose’ to have favorites around here.” McCree smirks, watching the door close before turning back at Reyes smugly.

“You jealous you ain’t the favorite anymore, McCree?” Reyes switches back to view at the notes of his holoscreen. Paying no attention to the younger man.

The cowboy laughs, “Yeah no.” He takes his hat off to run a hand through his hair. “Quite frankly, I think yer crush is cute and all, Commander. Can definitely see why you like ‘em,” Gabriel pauses to look at the underling dubiously. “but yer just beating around the bush at this point.”

“Don’t know what you’re talking about, son.” Gabe retorts.

“Sure alright, Boss” McCree sits up, cracking the kink of his back from leaning backwards. “Just don’t think I’m the only one whose noticed the special treatment you give ‘em.” Reyes watches as McCree stands, rolling his neck before walking towards the door. “They’ll probably at the training hall for a while. Go surprise ‘em, talk to ‘em, do somethin’. Getting tired of you dancing circles around ‘em.”

Gabriel is stumped. McCree takes his silence as his answer and decides to leave his boss to his thinking.

Gabriel puckers his lips in a frown. He hates it when McCree is right.

The hall is filled with its usual inhabitants when you arrive. There is a number of empty machines and weights that have yet to be in use. You place your bag near the treadmill before stepping on it. Finding your balance you set the interval at a decent pace before working your way up. It’s rather quiet for the first few intervals, the music of the gym blasting over the sounds of machines in use.

You grow accustomed to it before you hear chatter behind you, light giggles and chuckles, not too far off. Perceptive as you are, you can see the culprits as a small group of 3, two women and one man, eyeing you before continuing their chatter. You roll your eyes, adding more speed to the treadmill.

If they want to get a rise out of you, they need to try harder. You drown out the noise, deciding to concentrate on the task at hand. However, the hushed laughter and whispers become more prominent the more you try to ignore it. Your ears are trained, something you learned for gathering intelligence, and you can begin to make out more and more of what they say the more you concentrate.

“They’re the one the Commander likes?” One asks but is hushed by their peers.

“They probably kiss his ass like no tomorrow to get all that attention.” Another remarks.

There’s a fit of laughter before another comments. “Oh please, have you seen them? Commander Reyes could do so much better.”

You’re not one to give in to such comments. Quite frankly, in another situation you’d laugh at them. Though, you would be lying if you said you didn’t like your commander more than a coworker. You felt self-conscious when it came to such feelings, shrinking into your hoodie as your steps slowed. Though, that was your business and not anyone else’s to make remarks about.

You turned off the machine, just about ready to give them a piece of your mind until you heard the sound of someone clearing their throat. Turning you could see the faces of the recruits pale as their commanding officer stands behind them. Arms crossed, shoulders squared and visibly pissed.

“How disappointing.” He states, staring daggers at the three. “As adults and graduating recruits of Blackwatch, I would have hoped these petty rumors and useless gossip was past you but it seems not.” He looks over to you as they straighten out in front of their Commander. “My business is my business and I don’t appreciate it being discussed in such a manner.” He states, “I’m sure you’re fellow agent would say the same as well.”

“Sorry, sir!” The three yell in unison. You step down from the treadmill, leaning on one of the handles with amusement. “It won’t happen again!”

He taps his foot impatiently. “Damn right it won’t. 100 laps around the gym. Now.” It almost makes you laugh at how they stumble over each other nervous at the anger of their boss.

He saunters over to you, becoming visibly relaxed as he nears.

“Nice tongue lashing.” You hop off the machine, steadying yourself on your feet. “Was less of the hell I was going to give them.”

Reyes frowns, eyes watching as the said recruits ran their laps. “No one talks shit about my favorite agent and gets away with it.” He turns his attention to you, catching your eyes. His lips pull into a soft smile as he winks. “And you don’t tell anyone I have favorites, alright?”

A blush covers your face as you nod.

He smirks, teeth and all. “And don’t believe anything they said, alright? You’re very beautiful, I’m sure anyone would be lucky to have you.” He looks back to the offending agents, affirming they are still doing their punishment. “Even me.” You feel your heart race, being left speechless. “I should leave you to continue training.” He uncrosses his arms, dismissing himself.

“W-wait! Um, Reyes?” He turns at your call with an eyebrow raised. A small questioning hum as you giggle at the silliness. “I’m sure you’re busy and all but I would really appreciate a sparring partner?”

He bites his lip, mulling over the idea.

There’s a meeting he reluctantly needs to attend but he considers the chance of having your body pressed against his. The thought of sitting for hours discussing over the same mission details or the possibility of being held captive in a head lock. The lush of your thighs wrapped his waist, he smirks, or better yet his neck.

There’s no doubt of his answer.

Gabriel nods, decision made as he motions his head over to the training ring set up for sparring. You smile, hopping into the ring one step at time. Gabriel following shortly after. He stands on one end, waiting for you to do the same before he takes a defensive position.

“Don’t go easy on me.” He offers a sly smile, a chill running up your spine and through your shoulders.

You refuse to let him distract you. “Oh, I didn’t plan to.”

#requests #gabriel reyes x reader #gabriel reyes #Reaper #reaper x reader #Overwatch #overwatch x reader #overwatch reader insert

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sp00kworm · 8 years ago

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Lend Me a Hand (Genyatta)

Rated: T for violence Words: 1636 (Oneshot)

Although it wasn’t requested, I couldn’t resist writing it, even if it was just an idea!

Meditation was a forty five minute affair, for Genji and Zenyatta, which they had to themselves for peaceful thinking, daily. The two had a room on the base for this practice, as Zenyatta had kindly asked Winston for when he had agreed to help out with his gifts within the new Overwatch. The group had cleared the two out an old small social room, and Zenyatta had decorated it with plants and a small bubbling fountain in one corner. Often, various insects and birds would fly into the room if they left the window open, and a few members of the team had walked in numerous times to Zenyatta obliviously meditating, butterflies stuck to his face or birds perched along his arms and shoulders. The sensors on his surface were shut off and power redirected during meditation, and he often flickered back to life to Genji trying to round up and collect animals and insects.

This day was no different. Genji and Zenyatta were out in the grounds training. Genji vaulting the cliffs above Zenyatta with his brother in a quest of strength, the two eager to compete with one another once again. Hanzo still refused to pick up a blade, and so the two endurance trained, scrambling up rock faces and fighting hand to hand with bots also firing as a distraction. Genji's pistons hissed and released gas as he struggled to block a palm directed at his chin. The palm connected with a gruff growl from Hanzo, who immediately took control of his advantaged, and pressed forwards, knocking the cyborg back with another power packed palm smashing into the fibrous wires between his arm and chest plate. Genji was sent flying backwards a few steps and Hanzo leapt into the air in kick, his bare foot aimed at Genji's gut. The ninja reacted quickly and stumbled back another few steps before regaining his footing and refocusing his core, spreading his feet and arms for balance. Hanzo huffed a chuckle and held his fist close to his side, his other arm outstretched, two fingers beckoning Genji forwards.

“You have grown too reliant on your speed, brother. What if you were to be caught without weapons, surely, it seems, you would be bested easily?” Hanzo grinned, his teeth glinting in challenge as sweat dripped down his temples and chest, unburdened by his kyudo-gi which he had shed and the yugake gloves which were placed on top. Genji was glad that as a cyborg, he no longer had to worry about the smell from sweating, or sweating at all.

“Rather, it seems, brother, that you have been busy. Was normal life too mediocre for you? I'm guessing you spent plenty of time picking fights. Its hard to let it go completely, Hanzo.” Genji's eyebrows quirked cheekily, and he too, gritted his teeth before dashing forwards and landing a punch on Hanzo's chest. The elder Shimada grunted but quickly used Genji's momentum to push the second punch past his side.

Zenyatta had long since finished the motions of his own practice, and sat peacefully, watching the two lethal heirs have at one another. Genji was far weaker in hand to hand, and had always lagged behind Hanzo in their specific training for it when they were younger, and still it seemed, that his stamina was lacking in comparison. A ninja usually had little need for hand to hand, and that was reflected in Genji's typical fighting technique, run rings around them, weaken them, and then strike and get the finishing blow, or go straight for the throat and the quick and easy kill. Hanzo was far more used to patience and endurance, waiting for his kill, before aiming and releasing the arrow for the long awaited end. Zenyatta's orbs whirled around his neck as he thought, and he began comparing the two, sensors and memory units committing details of their fighting to memory in case he should need it one day.

The monk was joined on the grass by the, as he insisted, 'cowboy', Jesse McCree. He tipped his hat in greeting and flopped down on the grass next to Zenyatta, gloved hands picking around the strands for a satisfactory piece which he then inserted between his lips and ground the stalk between his back teeth, the top covered with seeds.

“Greetings McCree. Have you come to watch them spar?” Zenyatta tipped his head curiously, an orb raised a little above the rest to reflect this. Jesse shrugged at his questioning and turned his eyes towards the two brothers who were now huffing with effort.

“I came to watch the fireworks, sure. Been a while since I've seen something juicy like this. The only ones that used to be worth watching were Morrison and Reyes-” McCree caught sight of the bare sweaty chest of the eldest Shimada brother, and whistled, “Well if that ain't a pretty sight, then I don't know what is.”

Zenyatta glanced over the elder brother and shrugged, his orbs moving up and down with his shoulders, “ I do not see the appeal I'm afraid my friend. Perhaps you have an attraction to tattoos? Or perhaps it is facial hair?” and turned his head back to McCree innocently, folding his hands in his lap over the top of his yellow robes.

McCree shrugged and moved the piece of grass to his other cheek, biting down on the stalk, “Look at dem-”

“I assume you were talking about us as we were fighting?” Hanzo's scowling face pinned a glare on McCree and wiped his neck on the towel he had strung over his shoulder. Genji's face was amused and he chuckled before offering a cybernetic hand for Zenyatta.

“As much as I would love to see the domestic that is about to occur, brother, me and my master have meditation to attend to.” Genji elbowed Hanzo in the side and tugged Zenyatta up off the ground. “Shall we, master?” Zenyatta's senors scanned over Genji and a sadness registered as he realised as Genji had replaced his face plate and visor back in their place.

“Of course my student. Let us go and rid you of these frustrations.” Zenyatta was not unaware of the strange way Genji had been acting. Perhaps meditating would help Genji think upon his problems. McCree waggled his eyebrows as they left.

The two settled into the room relatively easy, and Zenyatta first spent time tending to his plants, carefully pruning the bonsai trees he had cultivated from seeds. One mistake would mean hours upon hours of labours would be wasted. Genji watered the easier house plants before rotating a few succulents and seating himself on one of the cushions, his pistons releasing streams of hot air as he relaxed. Zenyatta soon followed him, putting aside his watering can and slowly sitting, crossing his legs over one another. With a hum he began focusing his systems and lowering the power to his peripherals, the hum that was whirring in his chest slowing. Genji shifted in his seat and plating thumped softly as he rested his arms on top of his thighs and sighed with a mechanical edge.

They were only sat for a few minutes, Zenyatta having almost fully focused, when he felt the stare of Genji's eyes on his body. The orbs around Zenyatta's neck span in place and clinked, sparkling gold as he powered his peripherals once more.

“My student, is there something bothering you? You know you can speak to me of your problems.” Genji jolted at the sound of Zenyatta's soft, sudden voice, but quickly regained his composure. He seemed almost contemplative for a moment or two, before he reached up to his face and clicked the visor and guard away, placing them on the pillow beside his thigh. The cyborg then gingerly scooted forwards and seated himself in front of Zenyatta, wringing his hands a little. Zenyatta tilted his head and waited for Genji to explain himself. Carefully, cybernetic hands reached forwards, and pushed Zenyatta's thumb and forefinger apart gently- it was Zenyatta's common hand position when he meditated. With gentle strokes and pushes, Genji flattened out the hands in his grip and pushed the fingers apart, linking them with his own as he pushed his and Zenyatta's hands together.

“I apologise for staring, Zenyatta, and for being so distant recently. I...” Genji closed his mouth and swallowed, “I have been thinking on something, something huge, and I felt it was necessary to have some distance to sort through my thoughts. Now, I have concluded what they mean.” The ninja nodded and squeezed the monk's hands, as though grounding himself. Zenyatta felt the gentle squeeze through his sensors, and instinctively gave Genji's hands a squeeze of comfort back. Genji smiled, “Master- ah Zenyatta. Would you do me the honour of having your hand?”.

Zenyatta gazed at Genji for a moment, before humming confusedly,

“Ah, of course you can my student, however I'm afraid the procedure is a lengthy one. My hands are not like other omnics, they do not remove with switches, and the operation would mean I have to severe my sensor wires...”

Genji stared at his face, his mouth open wide and he closed it several times before fumbling for words, “Ah! Zenyatta, I did not mean literally, I am sure it is-”

Zenyatta's regal laugh broke him off and the omnic chuckled in the air, his legs wiggling as he gripped his belly, “Oh of course I know what it means Genji. I was merely jesting with you.” Zenyatta pushed a finger through the dark hair covering Genji's dark hazelnut eyes, and hummed gently.

“Of course I'll give you my hand in marriage silly billy.”

Genji tackled him in a tear wet hug.

#genyatta #genji x zenyatta #genji shimada x tekhartha zenyatta #genji #genji overwatch #genji shimada #zenyatta #tekhartha zenyatta #mchanzo #mccree x hanzo #jesse mccree x hanzo shimada #zenyatta overwatch #overwatch #overwatch fanfic #overwatch fanfiction #ovw #ow #fanfic #fanfiction

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megsblackfirewrites · 7 years ago

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The Family That Spies Together, Stays Together. Or Something to that Effect: Chapter 7

Chapter 7

“Jesse, hat’s off-centre,” Gabriel grumbled.

Jesse tried to wave his hands away, but he relented as Gabriel fixed the hat on his head. He knew his kid would resent it, but he was going to act like the doting father of three kids going on a much needed family vacation. Sombra and Lena were giggling, their glasses and huge sunhats keeping most of their features hidden from sight.

“There; like looking after a four-year-old,” Gabriel teased.

“Bite me,” Jesse huffed.

They headed for the terminal, scanning the busy airport for any sign of Overwatch or Talon operatives. So far, there had been none, but they were ready for anything. They made it through security and into the waiting area without incident. Someone tried to flirt with Sombra, but she just flipped them off until they walked away.

“Bitch,” the man snapped before he stormed off.

“Only to you, asshole,” she called after him. “Fucking jackass.”

“Lowlife,” Jesse agreed.

Gabriel patted Sombra’s knee as he leaned back in his seat. He pretended to rest, but he was scoping out the lounge from under his eyelids. Jack was sleeping, the soft sound of his breathing tickling his brain.

“Hey, Papa?” Lena leaned on him. “You okay?”

“Fine,” Gabriel replied. “Just resting.”

“Oh, sorry,” she apologized before she pulled away. “Looked like you were uncomfortable.”

He chuckled and got to his feet as their plane was called for boarding. The plane ride was uneventful, save for Jesse almost getting into a fight with the flight attendant that was trying to get someone’s service dog to be moved to cargo. They landed in L.A without a problem and boarded their next flight out to Tokyo.

He was still trying to figure out how Sombra managed to convince the Shimada clan to give them temporary sanctuary. He was grateful for it, but cautious. The Shimadas were dangerous. It would be unwise to trust them fully without good reason. Jack seemed perfectly fine with the idea, even excited about going to Hanamura. Maybe he’d had dealings with the clan while Gabriel was with Talon?

The long flight across the Pacific was just as uneventful, save for some turbulence that had Gabriel gripping the armrest. He wasn’t sure if it had been his fear or Jack’s, but it had been painful to live through. He’d almost thrown up and had only resist the urge through some incredibly focused breathing exercises. Tokyo was bustling when they arrived, but it was easy to spot the men that were to escort them to the Shimadas’ estate in the village not far from Tokyo.

Gabriel slept the drive there, trusting his kids to keep an eye on the drivers and escort. When he woke, they were in an underground parking garage.

“Reyes-sama?” one of the escorts asked, holding out a hand. “Follow me.”

Gabriel climbed out of the car and wasn’t surprised to find a gun against his head. He inclined his head to the escorts as he was nudged forward. He heard Lena whimper behind him and Jack growled angrily. Sombra was grumbling and Jesse was huffing about ‘welcoming committees’.

They were led up to a room and forced to sit down. Jack was growling furiously inside of him, but Gabriel kept perfectly still. Lena squirmed in her seat, glancing nervously at the guards.

“Reyes,” a voice called before a regal man swept into the room. “I see you arrived safely.”

“I did,” Gabriel replied. “Shimada Sojiro, I presume?”

“You are correct,” Sojiro inclined his head. “I would like to know what international spies with ties to two very dangerous organizations are doing seeking out a yakuza lord for protection.”

“Long story,” Gabriel replied.

“I have time to listen as you will not be going anywhere until I am satisfied with your answer,” the man narrowed his eyes.

“You’re being a dick, Daiki; stop it,” Jack snapped.

Gabriel stiffened in alarm and Sojiro straightened. He could feel all three kids staring at him in horror. He had never wanted to slap someone so hard in his life. What was Jack doing?! He was going to get them all killed! You do not insult the crime lord, Jack!

“What did you call me?” Sojiro demanded.

“Daiki,” Jack growled as he got to his feet. “The name you gave my father. The name you gave me when we came to visit.”

“I have never met you before, Reyes,” Sojiro growled.

“Dad, calm down; you’re just going to freak everyone out,” Sombra hissed.

“For fuck sakes, this is so God damn annoying,” Jack snarled before he spat something out in Japanese.

Sojiro’s eyes widened before he walked forward. “Jackie?” he whispered as he gently cupped Gabriel’s face. “My little Jackie…. How…?”

“Long story, Oto-san,” Jack replied. “One I’d rather tell in private.”

“Of course, Jack,” Sojiro smiled.

He shouted something to his guards and they immediately backed away. Sojiro waved for them to follow him and headed back through the door he had entered. Gabriel kept pace, but he was confused. Jack had never met someone like him before…had he?

Sojiro showed them into a sitting room before he hugged Gabriel closely. “Jack, tell me what happened,” he said. “Tell me how you ended up sharing a body with Reyes.”

“The accident that killed Mom and Dad…it left me in pieces,” Jack sighed as he sat down, motioning for the other to do the same. “I was barely holding onto life when Overwatch came for me. They promised me a way to make sure no other little boy was ever orphaned like I was. I…jumped on the opportunity. I couldn’t see myself in any other state than what I had before.”

“Oh, Jack,” Sojiro cupped Gabriel’s cheek. “I’m so sorry, my kestrel.”

Jack smiled and leaned into the hand. “What could you have done for me, Oto? I was eighteen; fully capable of making decisions for myself. Besides, they likely would have told you I was dead. I’m…I’m sorry you had to bury Mom and Dad by yourself.”

“I am glad that I did not have to bury you as well, even if I didn’t hear from you for years,” Sojiro snorted. “You were well?”

“No,” Jack shook his head. “I wasn’t. I was put through a…program. It changed me. I…well, let’s just say that I could easily out-distance my brothers now no matter what race we did. It’s where I met Gabriel,” he rested a hand over Gabriel’s heart and smiled. “He was my stone in that program. We would have perished if it wasn’t for the other. We were partners for a long time, more than just professional ones, and…well, details. Anyways, we figured out that Overwatch was corrupted, but Gabriel had the bright idea to run off to Talon and take our kids with him.”

“Kids?” Sojiro sat up straight. “I have grandbabies?!”

“Sort of,” Jack laughed as he waved at the three kids waiting on the couch. “They’re adopted, Oto. Jesse McCree, Sombra, and Lena Oxton. My kids.”

Sojiro looked at them and smiled. “I see,” he said. “I look forward to getting to know you better. Please, Jack, continue.”

“So, in order to keep me in line, they put a killswitch at the base of my skull. We didn’t know it was there until a few days ago. Gabriel gained the ability to rip himself apart at the cellular level and then put himself back together from the program. So, when we learned of my unfortunate circumstances, we decided to see if he could do the same to me. He managed, but rather than putting my body back together when he solidified, we fused.”

“A fascinating work of science,” Sojiro murmured. “I must thank you, Gabriel, for saving Jack’s life. I do not think I could have handled learning of his death after I only recently recovered from the loss of John and Sarah Morrison.”

Gabriel nodded his head before he reached up to rub it. “So, care to tell me what the hell he said to you that made you not want to shoot him on the spot?” he asked.

Sojiro smiled. “He told me that I should show some respect to the son of the man that saved my life with his love,” he chuckled. “Jack was always a poet.”

“That’s not what I’d call it,” Jesse laughed.

Sojiro waved at him before he got to his feet. “Come; I’ll help you get settled in. The boys will want to see you, Jack,” he said.

“And…Sayaka?” Jack asked softly.

“She will be home soon; she goes up to the onsen in Tokyo a few times a month now,” he smiled. “It helps with her lungs.”

“Oh thank Christ,” Jack laughed, tears leaking down their face. “I was scared….”

“I know, Jack, I know,” Sojiro soothed.

He gently wiped Jack’s tears away before motioning for them to follow him again. Gabriel wanted nothing more than to sink down onto a bed and sleep for a week. He felt safe all of a sudden. Like nothing could touch him in these halls.

“Jack!” Genji shouted as he charged forward. “Oto said you’re here and…WHO THE FUCK ARE YOU?!”

Hanzo stiffened as his brother threw himself away from the giant of a man that walked into the dojo. His hand tightened on the staff he was holding, ready to beat the man senseless for daring to enter their home without permission. But something about the man’s stance was familiar.

“Give me one good reason I shouldn’t kick your ass back to the street!” Genji shouted, brandishing his staff at the man.

“Genji, shut up,” the man snorted and dropped down onto the floor of the dojo, stretching his arms up over his head with a groan. “You’re just making yourself look like a dipshit.”

Genji and Hanzo stared at the man before Genji let out a squeal and pounced on him. “Onii-chan!”

“Hey, you beanstalk,” Jack laughed as he hugged Genji close. “You’re a lot bigger than I remember.”

“Jack…you do not look the same,” Hanzo said as he shifted closer carefully.

“Long story,” Jack smiled at him.

That was definitely Jack’s smile on that stranger’s face. Everything else was wrong, but it was definitely Jack. Hanzo smiled and dropped down beside his brother, pressing himself into his side. Jack explained how he wound up sharing the body of his lover and Genji cackled the whole time.

“So you’re soul deep inside of him!” Genji cackled. “Ooh, you kinky shit.”

“Shut up,” Jack rolled his eyes as he pinned Genji to the floor. “No comments from the peanut gallery.”

“I’m glad you’re safe,” Hanzo smiled. “Even if you do look like something out of a Latin American beauty magazine.”

Jack blinked and shot him a look. “Please don’t stroke his ego any more than it already is,” he grumbled as he rubbed at his beard. “I…haven’t seen the dragons.”

“They’re around,” Hanzo chuckled. “They’re probably just as weary of the newcomers as we were.”

“Maybe,” Jack sighed and rubbed at his face. “I miss them. I could really do with some….”

“PA!” someone shrieked as they came rushing into the dojo with a red dragon snarling after him. “PA! MAKE IT STOP!”

Jack scrambled to his feet and whistled, throwing his arm out. “Mars! No! Stop!” he shouted.

Mars stopped in midair and spun around, staring at Jack in disbelief. He snarled, his cat-like muzzle pulling back to show his teeth. Jack held his hands up and turned his palms towards Mars. He let out a sharp whistle and turned his head slowly to the side.

Mars’ black-tipped tail dusted the ground for a moment before he came streaking across the dojo. He wound around Jack’s body, whimpering and chirping as he snuggled like a cat that hadn’t seen its owner for years. Jack held the dragon close, stroking over the soft black fur that ran down Mars’ spine.

“Ssh, Mars, I’m here,” he soothed. “I’m here, my darling. Ssh.”

“Uh, Pa, wanna explain why that…furry snake was trying to kill me?!” the man demanded as he stood shaking against the wall.

“Jesse, this is Mars,” Jack said. “He is my guardian.”

#Gabriel Reyes #Jack Morrison #Jesse McCree #Lena Oxton #Sombra #Daiki Shimada #Spy AU #reaper76 #body sharing

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