#dark mccree

[yandere-genji]

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

[knightofleo]

Tomb Raider's Main Themes by Nathan McCree & Peter Connelly

#tomb raider #tomb raider II #tomb raider III #tomb raider III: adventures of lara croft #tomb raider: the last revelation #tomb raider: chronicles #tomb raider: the angel of darkness #lara croft #nathan mccree #peter connelly #the TLR one is my personal favourite i think

[pumpkin-pi-e]

Yanderes Aizawa, Hanzo, McCree, and Toji like to pretend you don't know what your clit is for.

I Ain't As Good As I Once Was

“This is your pussy. This is your pretty little pussy. You might have touched her before, but I’ll teach you how to spoil her.”

God, I love sad older men.

Content Warnings: forced cunnilingus (female receiving), overstimulation (female), c*mming in pants, fingering, kidnapping themes, self-flagellation (Hanzo), worship (Hanzo), dirty talk, mommy kink (Toji), implied gambling addiction, your implied age is -26 (Toji), Age gap, neglect on account of gambling addiction, breeding kink, pregnancy talk, (Toji) forced pregnancy? (Toji), dubious consent (Toji)

Not recommended for those under eighteen.

You try and touch yourself to show that you know how to make yourself cum. You've been doing this for years.

Aizawa

Aizawa swats your hand. No, no. You won't do it properly. You won't do it until you shake, cry, and run down your thighs. But he will. He won't overstimulate you if you don't want him to. He will work you through your orgasm, though. No matter how much you claw, beg, and squirm. You'd wanted to get off, and Aizawa will ensure you get every last bit out of this. He'll make sure you come in his mouth, make sure your cum slides down his chin. No matter how angry you are at yourself. No matter how hurt you feel. He can be tender—can make those thighs burn and those tits jiggle in a way you can't. "This is your clit, sweet girl. I'm gonna make it purr for you."

The last remains of his words drive into your ears as his mouth finds yours. The finger in your panties swept back and forth over the smooth, leathery skin of your clit the way a slow tide would swathe and flee a shoreline.

"Nn!" Fizzy pleasure bloomed in warm, scattered waves throughout your pelvis. You twitch forward the slightest amount, subtly humping yourself into a breathy, whining mess. "'s not a cat."

Aizawa draws a lazy circle around its sensitive edges, and your thoughts water.

"It can't—" Ah! "—caaan't purr." Your voice curled. It rose and wavered like a tilde symbol—building high and going all melted butter toward the end as you lurch into the wonderful crest of good he inspired. Your hips obeyed the spasms in your tummy and curled without decision or thought.

"It already is." It's practically vibrating. Singing.

"Can't you feel her purring?" Aizawa made the most agonizing, thigh-shuddering passes over your clit. You arch, arch (uhn, God!), arrrrrrrch into each one. Your clit is ringing, purring.

"Kitty's melting in my hand." She's really showing out for attention, wetting and trickling down his palm. Your small cravings are his responsibility, as were all your larger needs. He's your provider and caretaker. You rely on him for everything else, so why not this? When are you going to learn that Daddy does it better? He can satisfy them better than you ever could.

"Don't—don't call it that."

"But it purrs."

Oh! Oh, oh! It—it—oh, please, god, oh. He's using his nails, teeth, whatever he has. Aizawa sucks a bruise right into your neck. You shiver, squeal, and wriggle. How could a neck be this sensitive?

Aizawa doesn't budge. His heart thumps as you push at him, half-hearted. Enamored with any short amount of contact, Aizawa hums. You twist away from that, too, the sensation foreign on your skin. Aizawa takes a deep huff of your neck (your scent) and falls onto you like a dead weight. The new position traps his hand down the front of your panties and you underneath him.

"If it purrs, then it's a kitty. This cute kitty makes you a queen. And a purring queen means it's time for a litter." He's still working on you—working your clit and mons. You're soaking. You're hot. You arch into his hands, desperate, nearly out of your mind.

"Why do you have to be such a kinky bastard?"

"Because you like it." His stubble scrapes against your neck. Aizawa does it often, notably during 'quiet moments,' so you'll familiarize the sensation with safety.

Or so you suspect.

The brambly term of affection came often, but from what you gathered, it reserved itself for special occasions (you're convinced he stole it from his cats). When cramps left you withered and spent, Aizawa lifted you from the lonely little corner you'd carved for yourself underneath the kotatsu and reoriented you onto his lap for something to lean on—something to wring your grief into, should you need it. Shouta said he could take it—that he wouldn't mind—and had the scars to prove it, namely, the one beneath his eye. It was hard to argue in the face of something so tangible. Yet, it left a sour feeling of worms in your gut.

You're in pain. You don't want to be pain for someone else. You don't want to hurt him—he's never hurt you.

Just because he can doesn't mean he should.

He's pushing you forward, wanting you on your knees. "Because it gets your kitty panting."

It vibrated.

"W-who said I liked it?" Your tummy tremors and sweats as his fingers trace those hidden valleys.

"She did." Aizawa dove in for a quick, lascivious kiss. "She purred so sweetly." He lapped at your clit, hot and moist and delicious. "It must be love."

Calls your vagina 'kitty.'

He talks to it (which perturbs and delights you to no end). Cum for me, kitty. Isn't Daddy treating you nicely?

You know in your soul you aren't the 'kitty' he's referring to. Aizawa only called you kitty when you were topping. He had a habit of going into a deep mantra whenever you did. "Kitty, kitty, kitty, kitty..." Aizawa sighed under his breath, sometimes moaned, and others thinly whined as you rode him and as he watched through sexed eyes progressively getting lower and lower until they would eventually close. He'd seize shortly after. And if you didn't stop, Aizawa gasped it (half-heartedly attempting to shuffle out from under you, gently pushing at your coasting thighs with jittery palms. Outside of that, you were 'kitten.'

When she obeys, Aizawa gives her kisses and licks—so many that you'd stammer and beg him to stop. He attacks with fervor, and with your weak-kneed body, he pins you there, grunts, and gives you mouthfuls of his tongue, which leads you to beg, this time more openly.

Aizawa repeatedly kissed the top of your vulva, where your clit lay beyond its folds. Such an obedient kitty. —kiss— Such a perfect darling. So good. —kiss— So perfect.

He doesn't torture you for too long. Aizawa (generally) won't overstimulate you unless you want him to. He'll even apologize. He just had to give his kitty her due.

The guiltiest (second to Toji) in pretending you're too naive and innocent to know what your clit is for, let alone how to use it. He'll smack your hand away (reawakening memories of your father swatting your chubby little hands when they had something they shouldn't).

You can insist you know what you're doing, and he'll insist you don't.

"Feel these?" You touch your outer labia. Aizawa's hand is over yours, guiding it. "These are your pretty lips." Gummy, soft, and perfect for his teeth. He'd use them for pillows if you'd let him. You wouldn't, though. There's no way Aizawa could get close enough to smell you without getting a taste.

"They'd look prettier curing my insomnia." In other words, he's telling you to ride him until he passes out, or rather, throwing out an invitation. Your lips have erased his dry eye and lifted his depression. Simply gorgeous.

"How would I..." How could your vaginal lips cure someone's depression?

"Simple," He's against your ear. His hair gave you shivers as it fanned your neck. "You sit on my face," Together, your hands rode parted lips. They kneaded love into your skin that settled in your ovaries. "and rut." Your hips went forward with a gasp, unexpected and on cue. No matter the situation, Aizawa never failed to sound like a college professor three years away from retirement. He speaks to you as he would his colleagues and students. There is no bedroom voice, growl, or husk other than his natural warmth—warmth that made you swallow from the very lips he made you touch. Made you restless on his lap.

"If you knead them gently," he says, "they'll make you feel nice." Your knees knock when Aizawa focuses on the entrance hidden in your labia, circling it. "But not as nice as this," Aizawa pats your pussy, sending ripples through your body.

Slap!

Something liquid-warm fires across your hipbones, following a path up your spine, reminding you of when Aizawa kissed you. You call his name in a panic. What is this, and why is it delicious? Unadulterated joy tore through you like a storm in Texas-May. It stole your tongue, and the thoughts it couldn't finish—stole the bones from your body. The ache reverberating in your core was a flash-bang replacing everything but Shouta's name with bright white. It rang like a bell from the ovaries out, telling the rest of your body it was in love. It scares you. "Shouta—"

Slap!

"You're alright, pretty. You're going to be a big girl and cum, that's all."

Slap!

Oh, God.

"Intense, isn't it?" His chin sits in the crook of your neck. Aizawa watched you stutter after his hand and gently convulse.

Slap!

Your body hums like a Ford Mustang at a stop light. It lurched into each tap—tipping over the crosswalk markings in the concrete, eager and desperate for him to take you over the edge. Nervous foot on the petal, it waited for green.

"Come on, pretty girl. Almost there."

Slap!

Your thighs snap shut. Pleasure so soft and sweet spreads throughout your body. The ache becomes ecstasy, and the guilt becomes glee. It swells and sways like storm clouds in New Orleans, easily hitting your lungs and filling you with the finest summer rain.

Did you think for a second Aizawa wouldn't praise you? "Yes, kitten. Yes, kitty." He's agreeing with all your sobbed gibberish, rubbing you out because he knows you won't. His finger is hard on your clit when you buck and shimmy to escape the rush—the pleasure that won't stop knocking. Again, he won't take you past what you can handle, but you're riding that coaster to the end: no stops or pauses. You're getting every single clench, every tooth-chattering, leg-shaking, hip-raising flood of absolute 'God, yes,' that follows.

Aizawa was a decent man—was. It's wrong. It goes against every code, the oath he'd taken with the acceptance of his license. He made excuses for the inexcusable. Every day he went out and fought for freedom while ignoring yours. Swift on his legs when avenging the cries of the innocent, Shouta let yours fall on deaf ears.

Hanzo

Hnng. But forced cunnilingus. Dubcon, only because you're overstimulated, and Hanzo is stubborn. If you haven't squirted, he hasn't done his job. He had his pride as a man to uphold.

Hanzo raises your hand to his lips. He kisses it, clasps it, and restrains it to the bed. "Let me tend to you. So long as you warm my bed, you won't lift a finger." He kissed your neck and collarbone. "Not for your pleasure," Hanzo gently spread your labia. "Not for mine. This time it is for you, my queen."

A shiver runs down your spine. Your mind fills itself with visions of Hanzo taking you. He never has—claimed he could never 'defile' you. That didn't stop him from fingering your clit, drawing you to orgasm, or turning you into a mess of nerve endings.

"You are divine." You're a gift from the gods. Hanzo prayed they would keep him from succumbing to temptation, but it was useless. He had never been able to resist a challenge, and this time would be no different. His prayers didn't stop his cock from sliding against his expensive sheets, wishing it were your body his seed had coated, giving the legacy he'd spent a lifetime chasing.

His queen enjoyed testing him, denying him his duty as a husband. Why trouble yourself with matters such as these when he is so capable? He had solved many puzzles and navigated treacherous waters with ease, yet she seemed to think his skills were limited to a bow and arrow. Do you truly believe he cannot satisfy your needs?

Hanzo fondled your clitoris. "This is a husband's duty."

He moved down between your thighs.

"This is a wife's duty." He said as you whimpered. "To moan as a man pleasures you. To lie back and know your body is in his hands. To take your pleasure and offer your own." His tongue found you. You writhed against the bed, unable to stop your body's rhythm from matching his tongue's motions.

"Allow me." Hanzo touched your clit the way you'd tried to, his tongue deep in your core.

You wouldn't know the first thing about settling your body's aches. That was Hanzo's business. Your hands need only grab onto his hair when it all becomes too much for you.

Hanzo is skilled with a tongue, with a cock, with a razor-edged sword.

"Let me tend to what is mine."

Hanzo kisses your thighs, thighs that a man has never kissed. Thighs that tremble and shake so terribly you fear for your health. You can't breathe. Your heart is pounding, and you feel your mind slipping away. Colors bleed into the corner of your vision, static and buzzing like an old TV.

But Hanzo keeps kissing, licking. Your thoughts slur, and your tongue is no better.

'an...H-han.. c'n.. cn't... Your eyes roll—your back arches. Tears run into your hairline; Hanzo tightens his grip on your hand as your other one blindly scrabbles at his bedsheets. "H-han! Z-z—Oh, my God..." A wash of electricity ravaged your body. Pleasure so raw and sweet your voice croaks out hoarsely, love pouring from your lips in a flood of passionate syllables.

His grasp remains firm as you jerk into his waiting tongue. You try not to. You try and fight your body's natural curl toward the very thing bathing it in pleasure—foolish woman. Hanzo tongued harder and doubled his hold to keep you pinned throughout your cries and gurgles.

Cry for me, my Goddess, my queen, so I may worship you harder. Seek my hand if you are overwhelmed. Cling to me. I promise to be your source of strength and comfort. Security is the least of a husband's duties. Make me strive for the breath of freedom, then deny it to me all at once. Show me with cries that I am worthy, yet prove with the heat in your thighs that I am nothing.

Unable to praise you to the extent he'd like, Hanzo returned your moans from deep between your clenched thighs. He licks harder and faster, and he just isn't stopping. You deserve all this and more—to drown in your own wet and swallow hard enough to see heaven.

So beautiful. —Lick— So generous to me, my queen.

Your body is a waterfall that Hanzo would happily kneel underneath. Hanzo was no Buddhist, but he believed you could purify his wretched soul. In you, he'd find redemption. Your heat could make a blind man see. Surely, it could cleanse the stain of his past.

No matter how many passes his tongue made, you had more to give.

You scratch his sheets, and Hanzo has never been so jealous. The skin of his back tingles at the mere thought of hovering above you, thrusting into you - warm, soft, and perfect as you carve into his back and warm his ear with your crying breaths.

You can feel your breath swelling, becoming a low chant of pleasure as Hanzo continues to lap at the valley between your hips. Hanzo rewards your pussy for each hungry gulp as it comes and comes and comes by flicking his tongue over its pounding entrance. Wildly twitching, it swallowed deep and hungry—a trail of wet escaped. Hanzo licked that too.

"Can't… Hanzo, can't…." You reach out desperately for the headboard, using the bed covers to help propel you forward. When this failed, you mustered all of your strength and used your core to drive yourself forward, shoving his head with a surprising force. With each attempt, you inched closer and closer toward freedom.

His hand grabs at your waist, pulling you towards him as he licks and sucks. You can feel yourself trembling on the edge of something big—an adventure you aren't ready to take.

Hanzo watches you above your knees; he looks you in the eyes as you gasp and wheeze. You plead, and the archer licks your outer lips. Hanzo sucks your clit, hums. Your words gargle in the back of your throat.

The hand in his hair turns into a fist. Hanzo moaned.

At some point, he mumbled in your folds, snippets of "goddess" and "queen" as his hips repeatedly struck the mattress. The groans he's making have your ovaries flushing, your cunt fluttering. Hanzo's panting by the end, but he doesn't stop licking.

Hanzo, for all his dignity and grace, wants you to put him on his knees. Make him work and beg for air. Then, smother him.

Can you imagine Hanzo pinning you to the bed, claiming he's wronged you and needs to atone? You can scream that you forgive him, that it's unnecessary, but he won't accept it. What good is forgiveness if he doesn't earn it?

Or, he goes down on you before every Overwatch mission to "strengthen his mind and body" to better prepare.

"H-Hanzo. Why—" You bit your finger to keep from moaning (squirming). You don't need any bruises. Your hips still bear the thick shape of his fingers.

"Why not just—ah!—just train more?"

"You are the only meditation I need."

Hanzo’s bed once filled itself with women from all walks of Asia. Sojiro filled his bed with women from all walks of Asia. Differing accents, differing traditions. Same economic status. None of them would have been good enough for his father. The thirst for an heir may not have originally been his own, but the need still burned beneath his painted skin. The dragons grew restless, for Hanzo’s desire was their own. The dragon lord had never truly given up on his future children.

Unconsciously plays into your worship kink

Step on him

Physically a virgin, spiritually a whore

Not inexperienced, per se. The terms by which Hanzo lost his virtue weren't his own, so Hanzo ignored them.

Vanilla in theory and theory alone. Missionary, no anal. Ever. But he'd clean his spend from your 'temple' (inside and out) in gratitude and penance. First, for deeming him worthy of such a privilege. Second, for dirtying you and finishing without your consent.

He's kneeled at your feet, kissing them and offering his sacrifice.

It's all amusement and spectacle until he asks what punishment you deem suitable for his transgression.

Is he serious? You came three times in the last forty minutes.

You should be at his feet. You could never cum like that on your own.

Hanzo decides for you

You're shuffling off the bed when he reaches for his bow

He expects you to use honorifics after his name. You are his wife, and he is your husband. You must address him with respect.

Call him 'lord Hanzo' in jest, and the archer closes in on himself. Memories of a life he'd long abandoned close in on all sides. He kindly asks that you don't tease him in such ways. You know nothing of his past. Hanzo doesn't blame you for his reaction to your words; you only meant to play with him, as a wife should. Humor, and not ridicule. (Not that he thought himself undeserving of it. If a divine creature decided he needed humbling, who was he to feel any different?

Hanzo shies from titles that place him above you, "master, King, God, etc."

Jesse McCree

"Now," Jesse stood with his hands resting on his belt, the light from its buckle glinting off into your eyes and reflecting the terror you felt. His hips tilt to one side as he observes you silently. "Why doncha tell me again what you were hopin' to accomplish with them tiny little hands o' yours."

Panic flashed in your eyes because Jesse widened his stance and raised his hands.

You still scramble further up the bed.

"Nah, ya ain't in trouble," Jesse said as he removed his hat and tossed it on the side of your dresser. Always mindful of Ma's etiquette lessons, Jesse knew better than to enter a lady's room wearing his hat. Was impolite. You don't enter a lady's room 'less you come naked. "Pity she didn't teach me to knock," he added with a smile.

Confusion twisted your features. Jesse often said things that you weren't sure how to interpret.

His slow smile told you he was a man looking out after his own. It made your heart beat faster. He wasn't here to hurt you.

"Just show Uncle Jesse what you were up to 'fore I came in." He moved closer, the bed frame squeaking beneath his boots. "Lemme see what you got," he said. Jesse reached out, and you flinched.

But his hands only brushed a finger across your cheek, pushing away a strand of hair. "Ya got somethin' special in those hands," he said gently as his fingers pressed against your skin.

You become aware of the hands covering your modesty. You glance at your bare thighs out of habit when Jesse references the heat between them.

"Come on now, don't get all bashful," He said before you could try to hide under the blankets. You had a way of scurrying off like a little mole whenever he teased you too much. Shy, sweet, and gentle. He could eat you up for days.

"Show me how ya touch 'er when you're all alone."

You pull your cami over your thighs to deter those mocha-brown eyes. Jesse raised a brow that was just as dark. "Ya ain't got nothin' to hide, girl. I already seen it all." He said. Good-natured, southern charm oozed from his every sentence. Yet, you still felt like you were standing in the principal's office and caught doing something wrong.

But Jesse smiled as though what he said was meant to make you feel better. He leaned down, kissing your forehead as if it were the world's most natural thing.

"I'm… I'm loud.." Your knees draw together.

His smile was lopsided. "Good thing all the gunfire and explosions drown out hearing." He said, referencing the hearing aids he wore in his ears.

Did you think a little thing like that would ever be a problem? Bless your sweet little heart.

You weren't sure what to say. 'I'm sorry?' Would he think you're pitying him?

But he just let out a chuckle and shook his head. "Don't sweat it, sugar." A large palm ruffled your hair affectionately. "Now, why don't you show Uncle Jess what you were playin' with?" He asked again, his voice a little more playful this time.

"You..you really can't hear?" You fidgeted with the hem of your cami, not wanting to make eye contact.

His grin widened, "Not a thing." Jessie lied. "I'll even take 'em out if ya want." He started to take off his hearing aids, but you stopped him.

"No, no! That's... That's not necessary." You said quickly.

"Well, alright then." He said, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

"How's 'bout you let this old cowboy have that weapon yer holdin'?"

Weapon?

"Oh, she's lethal." Jesse winced playfully. "One could take out a man if it's aimed properly."

"She?" You asked, curious.

Jesse held back the brunt of his laughter. "Yer pussy, sugar. It's a she."

Your expression has him losing his composure. He had the courtesy to turn away and chuckle. The insult on your face had him in stitches.

"Well, shoot." He said after a while, finally managing to compose himself. "I ain't mean to make no fun of ya. Just thought you'd like to know your kitty got a name."

Your body ran hot, and your heart thumped against your chest. You can't believe how Jesse made you feel with just a few words and one little joke. You could see the mischievous glint in his eyes and knew he would make you squirm again.

"Respectfully, I'm gonna need to see those hands of yours." He said, that same southern gentleness in his voice like before.

Jesse whistled as your hands lifted, low and appreciative.

"I'll be damned..." You're sweet enough to top his apple pie. If he had it, Jesse would've held his hat to his chest; those thighs could carry him through the Arizona desert.

"You can take my breath away any day," Jesse said with a grin. He drank those thighs ten times over before they'd self-consciously shut. He was drunk on you as he was on moonshine.

"Hands back on your holster. Show me how you use it."

With his boot planted firmly on the mattress, brown eyes staring you down, you touched yourself. You'd jumped at the first brush of a hesitant finger against the peach fuzz clothing your mons—prickly and on its way to growing—cold fingers startling skin that hardly ever felt a temperature change. You've never been more thankful for those stubborn hairs that always grew back despite your best efforts. It offered a level of decency—privacy—during a private act made public. You map your vulva, getting a feel for it. Your legs spread as you become more comfortable with the movements and sensations that kiss you nightly when the house is sleep—as comfortable as you could be with a man like Jesse McCree looming over you.

You were very aware of him—his presence, his smell. You could feel him in your veins as you touched yourself, and he watched. He dared not move a muscle lest it scared you off.

The situation might be foreign, but the sweetness in your abdomen isn't. The toe-curling warmth made you want to rock and hum into its beautiful calm. It took the stress out of a very stressful situation. How odd to find yourself tense in the middle of your go-to stress relief.

You moved with clinical precision, not for pleasure but to show Jesse you weren't helpless. You felt like the Tin Man—joints stiff, robotic, and locking together when thoughts of what you were doing and in front of whom caught up to you. The need to defend yourself from any infantilism oiled them and kept them going. Your breath gets heavier as the pleasure builds inside of you, regardless.

Could you even cum like this?

Doubtful.

There wasn't anything too exciting about tracing up and down your lips, still wet from the 'exercise,' Jesse interrupted. Your clit still pulsed despite cologne tickling your nose like spice (or maybe because of it).

He was so close.

With the scent of tobacco and leather on his clothes, Jesse Mccree had your undivided attention. You can't look at him, but the thought of staring into those deep brown eyes while you circled your clit and cried the prettiest you could make you swallow down below. Your clit throbs, and you massage it before you can stop yourself. You play with the hood, fragile and unsure. It isn't enough, but you don't want to appear indecent. God, if only you could throw open your legs and—

"That ain't how ya do it. Touchin' 'er like that, bet you don't even know what she's called."

Of course, you do. It's a vagina. Not a 'her,' not a 'she.' You told him so.

"Aw, now. You'll hurt 'er feelings. Tell me what you call 'er, darl.'"

"It… it's my vagina." You emphasize the word 'it.'

Jesse shook his head. Shoulda knew you'd call 'er somethin' dull and childish.

"Move aside, sugar." Jesse motioned for you to stand. A cigarillo was all that was needed to complete the toothy grin as he sat, cybernetic hand hitting his thigh. "Come sit on Papa's lap. He's gon' show ya what she's for. How to touch 'er."

You stood uncertain before him, blanket held to your sex. The red fabric pooled between your legs and onto the floor.

"I don't bite, sugar." He said. It's the softest you'd ever heard him.

Your lips thin to a pensive line.

This is a bad idea. But the prospect of this man sipping you like he did his whiskey was thrilling.

You look past him toward his hat on the dresser, and the blanket drops. So do Jesse's eyes. But that grin? It stretches to something boyish, handsome, and white. He savors, just as you'd hoped; he savored himself so fully your legs ache to cross over each other. He's fixated on your vagina. You hope he can't see it swallow.

"This is your little pussy." Jesse spread you open with two fingers. You squirm on his thick thighs. He's mountainous and warm against your back; you hardly cover two-thirds of his broad chest. He must spray cologne directly on it. Woodsy Pine and Old Spice took you to a campfire with marshmallows and Southern folklore. You don't think about the chestnut hairs peeking out of his flannel. You can't. You'll die.

"This is your pretty little pussy." He rubbed your fatty, wet lips with four fingers—rough and widened in a V-shape.

Your vag—your pussy clenches, tingly.

"You may have touched 'er before," He swiped your clit side-to-side, hitting nerve endings that had you bucking on his tan, human finger. "but I'll teach you how to spoil 'er." He dipped one deep inside.

"And fill 'er up."

Your cries are as helpless as your hips as they help him fuck your pussy open. He stretches her so good you can't recall when you began referring to her as a she. You fuck yourself on his fingers until pleasure gushes from your cunt.

An involuntary gasp escapes your lips as he collects his first load in his fingers. You're there.

"You wanna cum, and I can make it happen, sugar." Jesse held you as you shook. Robotic arm slung over your waist, he let you use his finger to draw out your end. He pumped into you occasionally—lazy and matching your weakening thrusts.

"Ain't nothin' wrong with bein' greedy. Uncle Jesse will let ya have seconds if ya want 'em."

You just keep goin', doncha? You're a lil fighter—pushin' those shuddery hips forward even as you gasp and choke.

Ya weren't lyin'. Yer loud. Not in a cutesy way, either. You're raw, unapologetic.

Jesse loves it.

Nothin' worse than a woman who does all that dainty shit.

You cried so long and hard your voice tapered into a husk.

"These fingers were made for women. Made for touchin' 'em." Any internalized shame blew in the wind when Jesse used his thumb to swipe your sensitive clit. You groan like a cavewoman. Guttural, primal.

"Made for makin' 'em come. You gonna come for me again?"

You're already trembling, unable to get your tongue working as you tighten on his fingers.

"There ya go, sugar. Cum like I'm gettin' it in. Goin' six inches deep and cummin' hard on 'er lips." Jesse pumped his fingers deep again as you began panting, panicking—he was insistent on getting you off—a knot of orgasm tightened in your waist until you snapped like a whip against your backside and seized.

"Ain't nothing wrong with cryin'."

You can't stop shaking. Crying. Tears fall off your chin, and you don't know where they came from. At this moment, you're a helpless baby—wailing and hoping he understands. You need him to fuck the soul from your body. You need him to stop.

"I've got somethin' of a confession," Mccree said, his drawl thickening with each syllable. The thumb on your clit sent his words through one ear and out the other. He's knuckle-deep in your cunt and seated near your pleasure spot as he slowly curls into it. You curl with him, hot and whining.

"I may be aurally challenged, but I can still hear you, sugar." You're drooling in every figurative sense—mentally and emotionally sloshed from the pump of his heavy fingers. "Every time you whisper my name at night." He said, his tone low and warm.

Your thighs clamp around his hand.

Fiery shame swept like lava and left coals on your chest, leaving you with prickly, uncomfortable goosebumps.

Oh, now we can't have that.

You've stopped chasing his hand, chasin' that release you'd wanted so bad.

A gentleman, Jesse puts in enough work for both of you. If you aren't meetin' him, he'll have to try that much harder, won't 'e?

God, what would your family think? They'd shun you. Getting off to thoughts of your captor's big, impossibly wide hands instead of biting them.

This needs to stop.

Oh, but you can't. You're grinding on his finger again, helpless to stop. It's so good. It's too fucking good.

"That's it. Get it, sugar." Jesse starts flying in and out of your thighs. Something coughs from your throat like a drowned victim spitting up water. You grab his wrist for stability and don't make it halfway around.

"That's what I like to fuckin' see," Jesse growled.

Fuck it. You'd let him pull your panties aside and cream your pussy right there on your bed with your family in the doorway for them to see every desperate clench it made, each spasm in the base of his cock as it emptied inside their precious daughter, sister, and loved one. They could watch the conception of their grandchild and niece/nephew for all you care.

"Jesse! Oh god. Feels good!"

"Sounds even better up close." Mccree chuckled. Breathy, strained. As if it'd come through gritted teeth. His cock pressed into your ass—hard and hot. He made no attempts to relieve it.

"You come to Uncle Jesse when your pussy needs some lovin', ya hear?"

He pulled out, leaving you so, so empty.

You quickly nodded. No, no. Please put it back! He'd stopped touching your clit.

Jesse doesn't leave you empty much longer now that he has an answer. "You let ol' Jess handle it. I'll give the lil lady what she wants."

You're too damn polite. Callin' 'im 'sir.' He ain't no 'sir.' Jesse would tell you to stop if he ain't like it so much.

He pretends to hate it, gives you grief about it, but let you come 'round askin' for somethin'. Jesse stops you mid-sentence and tells you to call 'im that thing he likes.

"Come on, honey. You'll make me feel old."

Your name might as well be 'pretty.'

"C'mere, pretty. Wanna show ya somethin' real quick."

Toji Fushiguro

It's one of those days.

Toji stood in your doorway, an unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth. He had a can of beer in his left hand and a race ticket in the other. You should be happy to see him. There's no milk, and your stomach could grow teeth and devour. Your heart drops instead. The paper had as many wrinkles as a white shirt straight from the dryer. Crumpled, meaning he'd lost. The one Toji wore was stretched and spent. He hadn't come home last night. A sour odor of alcohol told you why. Toji celebrated his losing streaks with bottles of sake at the bar. Usually, he'd be out looking for a job to 'make up what he lost,' as he'd always promised.

The hunt must've been unsuccessful if he had been back so soon.

Toji was bitter before he'd even come in the door. Catching you with your fingers in your pajama pants put him over the edge.

"What ya doin' touchin' what's mine?"

Toji scoffed when you continued giving him that owlish stare.

"Y'think I'm good for nothin', dont'cha." His posture remains loose and bored, his tone detached. The slip crinkled in his balled fist.

This isn't going to end well.

"Of course no—"

"You ain't gotta lie, Seven."

Toji was more superstitious than met the eye. He set you up in his home like a Maneki-Neko for good luck and fortune, laughable.

You aren't lucky. Trouble raced after you like tin cans on an exhaust pipe, with your situation to prove it.

Trouble stepped further into your room—swept across your floor like tumbleweed, kicking the ground with every slow, drunken step. Trouble knelt on your bed, knocked your plushies off to the side, and snatched your arm when you scurried.

"Y'think I'm a deadbeat." Trouble pulled you under him and ripped your pajamas off your hurling legs. His triceps bulged beneath his tee as his hips rolled into your cunt, wet and bare. He held you still to take each stubborn, mouth-watering rut. "Think I can't take care of ya anymore."

Toji's still beating the headboard into the wall as you quake around his thighs. Frantic hands tear at his upper back, tugging his shirt for him to go harder despite the worrying cracks and splinters of wood.

"'m gon' prove you wrong." Toji put his weight on his elbows and fucked you like he meant it. He'd buck forward and knock your eyes to your skull.

'God, yes,' is all you can think as he presses you into the mattress and shoves into you until you can't get air. 'More, more, more.'

"Gonna make you cum so hard you wet yourself," he growled in your ear. "Gonna make you scream and cry." And he did.

"Oh God, Toji!"

Toji rabbits at the first sign of tears. "I'm gonna fuck you right to hell."'

"Oh, God! Oh, God! Oh, God, oh—uhn!"

Spleck!

Your thighs squeeze and judder into his cock. Wetness dribbles past your lips regardless of how tightly you clench your legs. You cum hard—the spasms in your cunt deep and violent. So fucking slutty and messy.

"God!" The word tore from your throat in a ragged sob. Feral. Hysterical.

There's no way you should clamp this fiercely. It's been so long Toji let you tighten up. He needed to stretch you back out. This pussy should be loose and sticky always. A constant fullness to fill the pangs and help you forget your troubles.

You wanna be fucked.

You wanna be bred.

"A little girl like you don't know what you're doin'." Toji got between your thighs and licked you from slick perineum to juicy clit.

"Says you." In your head, you're pushing his face deeper into your sex, hand in his hair as you grind on his tongue. 'Show me, baby; show me. Show me what I'm too stupid to do.'

Toji eats you alive.

His fingers brush up your bum while he tongues you into orgasm. Toji piles your juices on his fingers and licks them clean, again and again.

"Lookit how excited she gets." Toji rests on his knees. The crotch of his sweatpants is a darker shade of black and damp from your sex.

"She can't quit talkin'." Spasming, spitting, and wetting.

His cock is visible, sitting on his lower left thigh, right above his knee. A footpath of the same dark shade runs down his left pant leg.

Did he cum? Did he cum just from eating you out? Was that fat, ruddy cockhead drooling over the very hint of your sex when he'd rutted against you before?

There's something so primal about him kneeling over you, your juices on his tongue, his cock jutting out so proudly, hung like a horse between your thighs. It makes you aware of just how filthy this whole act is, how raw.

You can smell yourself on him, and your legs self-consciously close.

"Still think you know how to get this pussy to clamp as she should?" Toji's voice was low and gruff.

"No." You whimpered.

"Then why the fuck are you playing with my clit?"

"I wasn't playing with it! I was just..."

"You won't even squeeze your thighs together without askin' when I'm finished," his lips close around your clit.

Toji licks every slippery skin fold and nibbles your clit until it's throbbing. You fuck his mouth with your hips, desperate. You reach deep, guttural tones no woman should.

Would nut if you called him 'sir.'

Call him 'sir,' and he'll call you 'ma'am.' Especially in bed. It's shamelessly kinky, given the age gap between you. Might just call you mommy if you're okay with it. You're still under your parent's insurance and barely have a driver's license. Your wisdom teeth haven't come in, and here this forty-year-old man was calling you mommy.

And if you are? Agreeable with it, that is? Toji does his best to make you one.

He missed out on Megumi. Thoughts of another child hadn't crossed his mind until he was deep in your green, twenty-something pussy calling you mommy in that aged murmur.

You love everything he's saying. "Gon' fuck a baby into your teenage pussy—get you pregnant." Toji liked to poke at your age. He'd call you a teenager when you're particularly difficult. Little girls can't talk to me like that. Those nights remained the same. Toji fucked you on the floor and bred you until you couldn't speak. Cum ran from your entrance in a thin, constant stream. Milky, thick-flowing, and filthy. You just need some good lovin'; that's all it is—needed attention. You didn't know how to ask for it without pitchin' a fit like a child.

Make-up sex where he'd hold your hands as your thighs shook. Toji made up for leaving the cabinets empty by leaving your thoughts emptier. Cramming you six inches full of excess and relief, Toji filled you over and over until debt became greed. He's slow, thorough—men his age typically were. Toji was no boy. Wasn't in no hurry to finish. Thrusting between your hips, deep and thick in your cunt and inches from your face, Toji murmured, "'m gon' set it right."

You love what he's saying so much your appreciation lands on the base of his cock and lower abdomen as you squirt. "Dirty little girl. Dirty teenage pussy, begging for her senpai's cum." He burns right through your chest.

The words, "What are you going to do about it?" sit on your tongue.

"Gonna breed that pussy good. Gon' get you pregnant. Get you knocked up." Toji tugs your legs up higher, pulling you into his body as he snaps his hips. He thrusts into you, quick and hard.

Give it to me, give it to me. Put a baby in me. Oh, God, fuck me!

"Pussy'll be so sweet with my cum between those pretty, swollen lips. Might just eat it. Might have to. Might be all the sugar I need."

Muscles jump in your lower belly. Toji grinned above you, rotten, when your pussy quivered. Toji is feral when he gets his face between your legs, unlike any man you've met. The enthusiasm for your pleasure as he dug, sucked, licked, and scraped with his tongue (all while his right hand held your slippery cunt open for him to discipline and drink down) was primal and terrifying. It had you there in minutes. He had no direction, no idea, and no technique. All he had was the hell-driven desire to please you—make you come fast and hard 'many times as he could before his tongue gave out.

Every little thing you told him to do. That's all he had. You asked for more, and he gave it. You tell him to scratch that itch between your thighs, and he knows exactly what that means—squeezing his cock into your too-small ass. From there, all you did was tell him what you wanted, and he performed like a dog with a bone.

Toji wasn't above holding you down so that you took your pleasure on his face, fingers, and lips.

No, this dog took every ounce of his strength and overpowered your body to ensure he got his pound of flesh. What sorta man was he if he couldn't please his woman? An embarrassment, that's what. You ain't gonna insult him and walk away with steady legs.

"Gonna ride that pussy, make it mine."

Ride me, baby. Oh, God, yes!

Toji hunkers over you—that thick, heady scent of sweat, cologne, and body heat. He smells good. "Bet this teenage cunt loves feeling like it's mature, getting filled and stretched into a mommy's pussy." He's telling you how you'll look so good with your freshly creamed pussy.

Wanna be slutty for you. Make this pussy creamy.

"Gon' get that cervix wet. You'd better drink up, girl."

God, you'll drink every last white drop of it. You're already spasming.

"There she goes talkin'. Swallowin’. She's thirsty." Toji tilts your face towards him. "Boy or girl? Which one ya like?"

You struggle—feebly pressing his chest with jellied wrists to get him up and off of you. Out of you. You have to keep yourself from melting outward and running onto the sheets when he snatches you up in his arms as if you were nothing and hemmed you to the bed, hemmed you to his chest in a bear hug, and fucked you. He caged you beneath him and held you there. You’re held down and bred. Pre-cum drooled out of you onto the pillow like the real thing. Each thrust sent your hips violently into him, bobbing, circling, and returning to meet him as you rubbed your slick folds against his cock when it slipped out. He had you humping his wet dick like a bitch in heat. That was you on him. He's covered in you. He hugged you so hard that the bed felt like a paper bag under you.

"Ain't no running. Y'gon' take this dick. Take this apology."

"Don't! Don't—" The fight to free your arms was heavy and impossible as he lined himself up just as quickly as he'd left. Eager to fill. Eager to please. Hands trapped between your sweaty bodies, you settle for pushing against his stifling weight despite rising to help him resettle himself. And God, do you feel like home. Comforting, warm. He can already smell Ma's cooking. Slick, like the blood of his bounties. 'Specially when his bosses demanded a trophy as proof of his service.

White. All you see are the whites of his eyes as Toji's cock overfilled you to bursting, assisted by your curved spine and lofted hips.

He does it so gently—sliding into you like a Spanish kiss. Indulgent. Letting you admire the breadth of him, the ridge of cockhead that made your walls flutter and sing as it moved through you like drugs flooding a bloodstream, peddling euphoria throughout every corner of your body until you were floating and light in the giddy breeze of his possession. He looks demonic, possessed. Your cunt groaned from how full it was, glutted. Feel-good chemicals left you gooey and barely conscious as he stroked into you, exactly where you needed him and weren't ready for him. The deep grinds into your G-spot had you losing your breath, but he wouldn't stop. He wouldn't stop fucking you.

Uhhhn, God. Your eyes flutter. Your walls squeeze him against your will. You could kiss him.

"N-noooo, you can't. Don't cum in my pussy." You moaned. "Don't—hnn!—don' cum..." Your arms close around his waist, hips arching and rocking like you couldn't decide what you wanted more, to push him off of you or get creampied in one go. Bred.

"Mommy, ya gotta tell me." Your pussy clamps. Fissures of resistance disappear like they never existed when Toji calls you "mommy" like it's a sin. He's whispering dirty in your ear as if he knew your secrets. As if he knew you were two pumps and one shuddery male moan away from pleading the exact opposite.

"Tell me, Mommy, so I can do it for you." Toji's voice had gone sugary-sweet and deep.

But no...no. Nnn. No. "You… can't...do that." It's cheating. He's cheating.

"Tell me how you want this baby."

God, it just feels so good. You want him to cream you. Breed you. You like the fantasy of it all (it gets you wetter than anything), but he isn't financially stable, and you're no mother.

"We can't! Not 'nough money." Your lips don't sing lullabies. They sang heartache and blues. Emotionally immature and mentally thin, you're no mother. The slightest inconvenience, and you're ready to cannonball off a bridge.

"Ain't what I asked ya." Toji put you in a headlock. Ears hot and pounding, you twist and thrash as best you can underneath him. He doesn't leave you much room to grapple—still bearing down on you with all his strength and thrusting. 'Overwhelming' couldn't begin to capture the wave of shivers washing over you. Toji scratches that itch inside of you so good it nearly hurts. God, it's good—the beating he gives that secret, special place you can never reach alone. Where fingers clench into knots, your womb feels like a fever. You're in heaven. Your thighs burn from all that friction. You're in hell. Your body wants nothing more than to let out a primal scream as you battle to cope with the intensity. It takes you a few moments to realize you are—hollering in absolute hysteria. You unclench your fingers long enough to shove fruitlessly at his chest, claw at his arms and pelvis.

The thick arms caging your head tighten. "Answer. Or I’ll put one in your backside."

"Girl!" You shouted—voice rough and strangled behind his grip.

"A lil princess just like 'er Mama." Toji bucked into you, closing his eyes with a groan. When they opened, they stared down at your hostile mouth. If there was one body part of yours Toji was fascinated by, it was your lips.

He's been staring at them while he fucked you, lust in his eyes. Toji watched them threaten and plead.

"You get off me, or I'll—" Your words clung thickly together, dragged in places they shouldn't as if they were moaned.

"I'll..." Your lashes fall to your cheeks as Toji moves down, nose rumbling softly with steamy breath as he latches onto a nipple and sucks.

Your cunt swallowed and sang; you rose to meet his next push. The way his tongue and teeth work together on that sensitive spot is enough to make you light-headed.

"I'll..."

Toji stared at you, expression unreadable as ever. "You'll what, Mommy?"

He watched 'em gasp and form his name. He needed 'em. Needed 'em more than his own mother's rotted eyes.

"You'll cum?" He ground into you, and you gasped.

"Yes." You wrapped your arms and legs around him. God, your skin was on fire.

Toji released your breast and latched onto your mouth instead, groaning against your lips. His tongue flicked inside, and you opened wide.

"H-harder. Toji, I'm—"

Ughn!

Toji hits it like he couldn't miss—rutting, grinding, and humping into that sacred spot. Your kiss had him rabbiting and murmuring, moaning, and biting. He was gasping. He was growing—swelling at the base of his cock. He was coming apart.

Seeing you thoroughly enjoy yourself and falling apart on his cock has Toji's hips faltering. Mama's never yelled for 'im quite like that before. He had mama screamin', had 'er eyes rollin' back. Had her thrusting on his cock like she wanted her green, little pussy filled—wanted his kid.

"Sound so good, Mommy." He's coming already, eyes shut as the first few spurts escape him. Toji's thrusts deepen each time you moan. He'd shiver, pushing hard into your g-spot. He spoiled it for every hunger pain while he was away.

"Hands." His voice shook with effort—the physical strain of staving himself off.

When you don't immediately respond, Toji's head rests on your shoulder—miserable like an old dog. "y'know I can't cum without 'em. Know I need 'em."

His breaths come in rough pants. "I'm gonna cum, Mommy. Imma go right up your pussy and spill my seed."

"Toji—" You squirm, "Toji, don't!" You'd damn near drooled as the first squirt of hot cum hit your pussy, unconsciously bucking into him for the umpteenth time.

You beg Toji not to cum inside you, hugging him and pumping those hips all the while. Desperately, at that. A man's gotta wonder.

"Let me apologize, mama," he said between labored breaths. "Let me give you this baby." His fingers pry into yours, clutching them against the mattress as he rutted and sighed into you. "Let me."

"No." You fight. "No, no, no, no, no! No. Don't!"

His thrusts pick up as you try and wrangle free.

"I forgive you, Toji! I forgive—"

Toji licked into your mouth, grabbed onto your hips, and emptied himself in a long, thick stream. He shivered in your arms through spurts and convulsions, letting you swallow his shuddered alphabet of husky groans.

You can't help but buck into each warm shot of his seed. You're a whore. And you're tired of pretending you're not.

You're still moaning for him not to cum inside you as he does just that, pushed up against your G-spot, gently grinding you toward an orgasm of your own.

He could've positioned himself at your cervix and got all nice and snug, but then he would've missed the sleepy look on your face. Eyelids hung low, mouth parted—sated, full, and still working that pussy against him, swallowing miserably around him because it hasn't cum. She will. He'll show ya he ain't useless, that he's good for somethin'.

Besides, they'll swim. He doesn't need to be lined up to hit a target. It'll be fine once you're shiverin' against him; you'll send 'em right where they need to be.

"Please don't, sir." You said, still thrusting through the zips and tapering shocks of your orgasm. Your arms are helpless, bumbling, and unresponsive.

'Sirs' nice and all, but he'd prefer 'Mister.'

Author’s Note: This was Valentine's gift for myself and I decided to share it. If this performs well, I'll finish the second installment. The next part will feature Erasermic, Bob Velseb, Daddy Dearest, Mommy Mearest, and a fourth character I haven't decided on.

Tips: Please consider tipping if you're well-fed. It would incentivize me to keep sharing. https://ko-fi.com/pumpknpie

©️pumpkin-pi-e | Do not copy, edit, paraphrase, plagiarize, translate, or borrow from my work. I do not give my consent for any of my works to be reposted. I only write on Tumblr. Should you find this anywhere else, please alert me because it was stolen.

For your listening pleasure:

The title was based on the song below.

Do Not Interact - Writers and blogs who actively write white-coded reader inserts (blush, turn red, a flush of color). I can’t eat at your table, and I don’t want you at mine. You will be blocked. Blank blogs will also be blocked.

#yandere Aizawa x reader #yandere Hanzo Shimada x reader #hanzo smut #yandere Jesse McCree x reader #yandere Cole Cassidy x reader #yandere Toji Fushiguro x reader #toji smut #yandere x you #yandere x reader #yandere overwatch #yandere bnha #😍yandere #<- Block this tag if you don’t want to see dark content #yandere smut #they’re soft yanderes tho #Spotify

[ivymarquis]

Intro + Masterlist

Hi! I’m Ivy and I have been known to write things on occasion. 

27 | Sapphic | Lover of dark content

I have a penchant for writing about scary men (+ women!), and am not opposed to writing smutty and/or dark content. Because of that, this blog is strictly 18+.

Minors + ageless blogs will be blocked

Dark content **is** placed under a cut for those of you who don’t wish to see it!!

Requests are currently ||open for snippets|| (pls check ((rules)) and ((F-List)) before sending requests!

Masterlist Key:

⚠️= Dark | ✨= Smut | ❗❗= Angst | ⚪ = Consensual |  ⚫ = Dub Con | 🔴 = Non Con | ✔️ = Completed Series | ⭕ = WIP Series

**UTD as of 6/5/23; Check the “my writing” tag to see if Ive posted anything that hasn’t been added to the list yet :)

Kinktober 2023 masterlist here!

OVERWATCH

Unspecified male OW!character x Reader

Heat Stroke He was a furnace and a cuddle monster- a trait you’d greatly appreciated when you’d started sleeping (as in, literally sleeping) with him in the winter. Now? The temperatures were rising and his grip was borderline suffocating at night.

Gabriel Reyes/Reaper

Gabriel throat fucking Reader   ✨⚪ Free use throat fucking kink

Kinktober Day 6 (2018)  ✨⚪ Daddy | Corset

Kinktober Day 7 (2018) ✨⚫ Praise Kink | Aphrodisiacs

Kinktober Day 10 (2018)  ✨⚪ Wax Play | Hair Pulling

Incubus!Reaper Gabriel has something to tell you. Hopefully he doesn’t have a secret wife.

Gabriel Reyes vs 2-year-old toddler Gabriel underestimates the power of a nap

Daddy kink headcanon Tis what it says on the tin. Reyes’ reaction to their s/o having a daddy kink

Reaper teaching his S/O how to kiss Tis what it says on the tin

Moira O’Deorain

Kinktober Day 2 (2018)  ✨⚪ Medical Play | Begging

Kinktober Day 11 (2018)  ✨⚪ Aphyxiation | Object Insertion

Moira with an affectionate S/O Headcanons of Moira with an S/O who enjoys showing random affection

Looks Can Be Deceiving  ✨⚪ Moira thinks you’d look adorable squealing underneath her.

Birdy   ⚠️✨🔴 Moira’s in rut and has plans for you.

Daddy Part of your self-appointed job as Moira’s girlfriend was to annoy her on occasion.

Us  ❗❗ You can’t overlook this.

Chocolate Kisses  ✨⚪ You agree to go on a date with Moira

Problem Solving  ✨⚪ You take control when Moira gets too stressed out.

Jack Morrison/Soldier 76** ** F!Reader fics written prior to announcement of Jack’s sexuality

Daddy kink headcanon Tis what it says on the tin. Jack’s reaction to their s/o having a daddy kink

Brat Tamer!76  ✨⚪ You weren’t acting out because you’d missed him. Definitely

Sleeping Dogs Lie  ⚠️✨🔴 Jack just wants to make you happy

Movie Night  ✨⚪ Jack starts seeing a new mother and develops some new kinks as a result.

Hang Ups  ✨⚪ Jack moves past his hang ups.

Stealth  ⚠️✨🔴 You’re not nearly as stealthy as you think you are.

Cole Cassidy** ** Older fics refer to Jesse McCree, pre name change

Kinktober Day 1 (2018)  ✨⚪ Smiles/Laughter | Deep Throating

Demon!Hanzo x Werewolf!McCree x F! Reader  ✨⚫ You decide to summon a demon and there are some… unintended consequences

Nap Time It’s just a fact that boobs make the best pillows

Gratitude  ✨⚪ Jesse shows his gratitude to his sweetpea getting a tattoo themed after him

Welcome Home, Baby  ✨⚪ Jesse comes home

Daddy kink headcanon Tis what it says on the tin. Cassidy’s reaction to their s/o having a daddy kink

Trying for a baby with his wife headcanons Tis what it says on the tin

Genji Shimada

Late Bloomer (I) (II)  ✨⚪✔️ Genji’s precious beta is actually an omega- one whose heat hits her like a freight train.

Dragon!Genji x Reader  ✨⚪ You’re ready to carry your lover’s eggs

Bother  ✨⚪ You figured Genji wouldn’t care for a second if your cousin was visiting. As it turned out, he cared very much.

Stay  ✨⚪ Genji hasn’t been with anyone since his near death experience. Then you join blackwatch.

Playground You and Genji go to a playground

Kitten Play  ✨⚪ Being a well respected professional in your work life is fine and all, but there’s comfort in handing the reins over to someone else.

Genji w/ S/O who struggles with penetration  ✨⚪ Tis what it says on the tin

Idol Genji has his own way of wishing you good luck for your concerts- This has unintended consequences.

Hanzo Shimada

Demon!Hanzo x Werewolf!McCree x F! Reader  ✨⚫ You decide to summon a demon and there are some… unintended consequences

Daddy kink headcanon Tis what it says on the tin. Hanzo’s reaction to their s/o having a daddy kink

Sugar  ⚠️ You just got cold feet is all

Incorrigible  ✨⚪ You’re an incorrigible tease when you want to be.

Hanzo x Reader  ✨⚪ You let Hanzo tie you up like a thanksgiving turkey

Candy Hanzo has some concerns about all the reader's candy

Trying for a baby with his wife headcanons Tis what it says on the tin

Sombra

Kinktober Day 3 (2018)  ✨⚪ Sensory Deprivation | Edgeplay

Aleksandra Zaryanova

Zarya + Chubby!Reader Self love is important, but can be hard

Akande Ogundimu

Phone Etiquette Akande knows how to make a boring business call much more interesting.

See Something You Like? You notice when Akande starts timing his workouts to match with yours.

Wilhelm Reinhardt

Sugar Daddy!Reinhardt Headcanons of sugar daddy Reinhardt

Lucio Correia dos Santos

Trying for a baby with his wife headcanons Tis what it says on the tin

Far Cry 5

Jacob Seed

Apex Predator (I) ⚠️⭕ The Deputy has a secret, and Jacob makes it his mission to bring her to heel

What You Want  (I) (II) (III) ⚠️✨🔴»⚫ ✔️ Jacob learns the deputy is his mate and sets out to subdue her

Quality Over Quantity (I) (II)  ✨⚪✔️ Jacob ensures the continuation of the Chosen’s line

Happy  ✨⚪ She was content with her place in the middle of the pack. Then Jacob took notice of her.

All Good Things He's been sweet on her ever since she propositioned him back in Missouri

Better Late than Never Pushing 50, Jacob had figured years ago his dreams of a wife and kids weren’t happening

Unrequited ❗❗ Not sure I’ll ever actually finish this- Jacob is in love with the deputy, but marries one of the women in the cult after the deputy marries John

Kinktober Day 4 (2018) ✨⚪ Spanking | Spit Roasting

Kinktober Day 8 (2018)  ✨⚪ Hate Fucking/Angry Sex | Fisting

Illness The Deputy gets sick in the cages

Can’t Sleep Jacob's insomnia is not new- when the Reader can't sleep, he offers a potential solution

Good With Kids John gives commentary on Jacob's baby-handling skills

“You smell like wet dog” Fluffy one-off where Reader informs Jacob he needs a bath.

Love Language Tis what it says on the tin

Favorite Kinks Tis what it says on the tin

John Seed

Baptism of Blood  ⚠️ John finally has a willing soul to cleanse

Kinktober Day 5 (2018)  ⚠️✨⚪ Sadism/Masochism | Blood/Gore

Love Language Tis what it says on the tin

Favorite Kinks Tis what it says on the tin

Joseph Seed

Love Language Tis what it says on the tin

Favorite Kinks Tis what it says on the tin

Faith Seed

Love Language Tis what it says on the tin

Favorite Kinks Tis what it says on the tin

Eli Palmer

Kinktober Day 4 (2018) ✨⚪   Spanking | Spit Roasting

Kinktober Day 9 (2018)  ✨⚪ Titfucking | Lingerie

Call Of Duty

Simon Ghost Riley

Simon’s Spotify Playlist Don’t ask me for anyone else’s lol. He’s the only one who gets one.

Spoiled  ✨⚪ Spoiled the thought flashes across his head. Course it doesn’t help that he’s utterly whipped. He’ll give you anything you ask for just because you want it.

Bonded ❗❗ You and Simon are caught off guard during a mission

SS: Overstim Tis what it says on the tin

John Price

Blind Date John goes on a blind date. It goes well

John Soap MacTavish

Steel Magnolia Soap falls head over heels for the base’s fire breathing preceptor

Character Study: Honey

Kyle Gaz Garrick

Under My Skin Your situationship uncomplicates itself on a rainy night

König

SS: Pregnancy Risk Not only does König not care that it's not safe to finish inside- that's kinda the point.

Platonic Reader + 141

The B.A.G. Coalition You accidentally spill the beans on why Graves can’t get a date

#cod x reader #overwatch x reader #far cry 5 x reader #x reader #my writing

[sheep-and-lykos]

Downfall: Werewolf!Blackwatch!Jesse McCree x Fem!Reader

Chapter 7: What Big Claws You Have

"To lovers, the moon is a thing of beauty; But, to this man, it is a deadly curse." ~ Wolfman Jack

���McCree!” Reyes called out for him.

The night ops commander tried to grab onto Jesse’s arm as he fled, barely managing to snag a hold of the cowboy’s bicep by the skin on his teeth just before the fabric slipped from his fingertips. Jesse fled down the hallway, scrambling around the corner quickly and retreated back to his room. He could hear Reyes calling out for him, telling him to hold up, but Jesse needed to flee.

He nearly slammed against his door, hand shaking as he punched in his room’s pin number and almost fell inside when the door parted.

He felt like he was going to vomit.

He pressed his back against the door, hands flat on the metal and head pressing painfully against the cold slab of sliding steel. The room was spinning, tilting with every blink he rapidly took, the corners of his vision were starting to get a little dark. His eyes had started to sting again, the burning sensation flaring with every move his eyes made just like they did moments ago in front of that plant in Moira’s office.

He could feel the contents of his stomach bubbling, he could feel his organs twisting into sailor knots. His chest was tight, it felt like his ribs were going to all pop apart if his chest squeezed any tighter. It felt like he was getting pinned under Reinhardt’s hairy and very sweaty body again but ten times worse.

Jesse stumbled away from the door, barely able to catch himself on his dresser’s edge as his legs nearly gave out from under his brawny weight. His hands clawed at the roughened wood, worn from him carelessly tossing things like his gunbelt to bottles to his heavy ass armor onto it. He pushed himself up, forearms flexing as his back started to burn from the stretch of his muscles.

A low, pained groan forced its way past Jesse’s lips, his mouth hanging just barely open as his temples throbbed.

What the fuck was that plant?

Was he poisoned?

Jesse’s eyes fluttered open, wincing at how much the room was still spinning. He felt like he had just downed an entire bottle of the cheapest liquor the harsh American desert could off, something that could really cut through just about anybody with just one touch on the tongue. His stomach curled and coiled like it had just happened, too, acting as though it could purge itself at any second now.

Jesse forced himself to stand up on wobbling legs, leaning himself off of his dresser until he managed to stand on his own two feet without falling over. His steps were messy, heavy and slow like he was trying to walk on a tightrope to his bed. It looked like a cloud sent straight down from heave in his eyes.

Sleep.

That’s what he needed: Sleep. He would sleep and he would feel a whole lot better when he woke up.

It felt as though time had dripped on like hardened honey, every step felt like it took forever in his distorted vision until he finally reached his bed.

He collapsed against it, legs giving out on him once again as he basically fell face first against the covers. His body felt suddenly warm all over, the thick flannel beneath him cradled him like he was a baby, softly soothing his hazy mind until it had switched off to darkness.

Jesse suddenly opened his eyes. He was freezing cold, almost as though he had been dunked in a bath of ice cold water just to wake him from his slumber.

Except, he wasn’t sure he was sleeping… At least in his bedroom.

Jesse’s eyes opened up to see the stars above. Trees had speared upwards toward the sky from the corners of his vision, tall pines like spikes against the night blue sky. The full moon sat directly over his head, shining brightly, burning at his eyes the more he stared up at it.

He sat up with a short shout, his bare hands snatching up the soft grass that pillowed beneath him. He rubbed his arms against himself, hugging his body as it shivered in the night’s cold kissing breeze. Looking down, Jesse found that he was not in the uniform he was wearing just as he collapsed on his bed; Instead, he was in his usual sleepwear consisting of a well worn t-shirt and thin flannel sleeping pants. No wonder he was fucking freezing.

Jesse looked over his shoulder, doing his best to ignore the biting cold and how his breath puffs out like smoke before his eyes, looking along the trees that surrounded him as though they would suddenly produce answers with worried eyes. How did he get here? Why was he in different clothes?

Was this a dream?

Jesse felt his heart pounding all over his skin, his ears were full of static as his blood roared in his veins trying to keep him warm. His fingers were starting to feel a little tingly as he tucked them under his armpits for extra warmth.

He had to get out of here… wherever here was.

Jesse finally found it in himself to stand, his legs wobbling as he slowly stood up. He winced at the tightness all over his body, his joints popping and his head started to throb at the temples again.

He started for the trees, managing to get past an overgrown root poking out of the earth when he felt something shift in the air.

A branch snapping somewhere in the woods had Jesse turning on his heel, eyes pinned on the direction the sound had come from just on the other side of the clearing. It didn’t take a second glance to see a single yellow eye cutting through the darkness to scare the shit out of him. It felt like he had just been drowned in another ice bath just from looking at that one eye sitting amongst the tall pine trees.

He watched in horror as a large dog-like foot broke from the darkness and stepped into the clearing, dark claws churning up the dirt and grass as it put its full weight onto it. It slowly stepped out into the clearing, the rest of its body slowly being exposed in the pale moonlight. Jesse backed up further into the trees himself, for the one step the monster took towards him he took five back.

It looked a lot more different than their meeting in Washington.

It looked sickly. Its fur was matted and caked in what Jesse could only describe to be dry blood and possibly pus. Some parts of its body were hairless, completely missing patches while others had thinning fur across the skin, almost as though it had mange. It looked a lot skinnier and more lanky like it hadn’t been eating. There were more scars on its body, especially its face. The muzzle on that thing had horrible scratches carved in, some of its fangs were missing as it snarled at him in the trees. But it was still missing its eye and Jesse could spot the bullet he had shot into its shoulder just barely missing where the throat began.

Jesse nearly choked on his spit as it just stood there watching him. Why wasn’t it attacking him? Why wasn’t it trying to maul him like it did just last month? Why wasn’t it trying to finish the job?

Instead, it just continued to look at him with that fucking creepy ass eye that Jesse really couldn’t look away from. He knew the second he would look away, something would happen.

Jesse found it suddenly hard to breathe the longer he stood there glaring at the beast in front of him. He wasn’t freezing cold anymore, in fact, it was the opposite. His skin felt as though it was burning in the sun despite it being nearly pitch black where he stood.

And then he felt his heart sear inside of him.

Jesse choked on his breath, eyes widening as the air had been suddenly sucked out of his lungs. He tried to shout in pain only for nothing to come out. It felt like he had been stabbed in the heart, right in between his ribs as his lungs ached like they had been punctured. His legs gave out under him, falling to his knees as one of his forearms caught him before he faceplanted into the plush grass. His fingers snatched up the grass, tearing it from the hardened dirt as his back arched and his mouth hung open in a silent scream.

Another throb of his heart, another stabbing feeling-

But this time, Jesse found the air to cry out in agony.

He felt miserable.

Gloved fingers rubbed at exhausted eyes, pinching at the space between his brows as a soft groan emitted from the back of his throat. His mouth was drier than the dusty desert he once called home, his head was foggier than a night on the beach after it rained. There was still a dull pounding at the back of his skull, his temple still flared with pain when he grit and ground his back teeth.

The noises of the mess hall only made it worse. All of the talking and laughing and the scraping of metal utensils on ceramic plates, it grated at his ears and dwindled down his thinning nerves. Why did everything feel so loud all of a sudden?

Jesse pulled his cup of scalding hot coffee closer to him by the rim, nearly splashing out the dark liquid from how rough he was. Coffee was probably the last thing he needed right now save for the cigarettes he had just smoked right before coming in here, but he needed something to keep him up after the nightmare that had woken him up in the middle of the night.

It felt too real for comfort. Jesse swore he could still feel the stabbing pain in his chest whenever he would move a certain way, especially when bending over.

He blinked slowly, moving his hand away from his face as he looked around the mess hall filled to the brim with Overwatch agents. He knew most of them, obviously, but it felt like there were more packed in today than ever. He could make out the few key members mingling with the regular soldiers, but he couldn’t quite make you out in the crowd just yet.

Jesse raised the mug of blazing hot coffee that was literally just made not even two minutes ago to his lips and knocked back at least half of the bitter goodness before setting his mug back down on the table. His throat burned but he really didn’t care. He needed to be awake; If he was awake, he wouldn’t have nightmares like last night.

Right?

Jesse raised his mug again, quickly swallowing the rest of its contents before placing the mug back down and leaning back in his chair, pushing the empty mug to the center of the table to deal with later.

His eyes wandered to the long line for food only getting longer as most of the soldiers went back for seconds by this time - Reinhardt was probably on his fourth plate by now. His stomach turned and twisted at the sight of steaming hot food piled onto plates. He felt ravenous as though he hadn’t eaten in days, but just the thought of eating made him feel sick to his stomach. The smells alone really weren’t helping him at all, but the coffee machine in the Blackwatch wing was currently out of order.

Some of the smells toyed with his nose, smelling like heaven served up on a silver platter. He wanted to so badly devour something right now. Maybe a steak, bloody rare with mashed potatoes and green beans. Just the thought of a big juicy steak made his mouth start to water. The thought of a blue rare steak briefly crossed his mind.

Another mug of steaming hot coffee was placed right in front of him by a gentle hand. Following the striking blue Overwatch uniform sleeve up, Jesse found you attached to it. You had your own cup in your other hand, a soft smile spread across your face.

“Mind if I sit with you, cowboy?” you hummed.

“Please,” Jesse’s voice was soft, barely audible over the ruckus that surrounded you both.

You sat across from him, stirring your coffee with a spoon as you eyed him with worry painted on your face.

“Didn’t sleep well last night?” You weren’t there, you were on a later shift stuck doing paperwork all night long. Jesse missed your presence in his room, in his bed. His heart sank when he woke up and you weren’t there pressed up against him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

“I had a bad dream,” he shrugged.

“You’ve been having those a lot lately. Did you tell Angela?” You hesitated before asking the question you knew he wouldn’t like. “Moira?”

Just hearing that woman’s name made Jesse’s skin crawl. He still couldn’t get over what happened yesterday. He spent a good ten minutes looking in his bathroom mirror when he woke up, staring intently at his eyes to see if they would do it again but they never did. What was that fucking plant and why did it do that to him?

“No and hell no.” Jesse sipped at his coffee. “Angela’s busy, I don’ wanna bother her.”

“She’s worried about you.” You stopped stirring your coffee. “I’m worried about you.” Your words made Jesse’s heart sink in his chest to his stomach. Your hand slowly reached out across the table to place itself on to his own. He couldn’t help but look up into your eyes, really seeing how worried you are. “Are you okay? I know you don’t want to talk about what happened, but I know this is all happening because of it. Right?”

“Darlin’, ‘m sorry.”

“You said you were going to tell me what happened, but you never got the chance to. Either you get pulled away or I do. I’m really worried about you Jess. You’ve been acting… weird.”

Your words made the knots in his gut tighten more. He never did get to tell you what happened, how he was basically a human squeaky toy for a big hairy monster and how he’s been having nightmares and weird cravings and all of this weird shit. What even would you say? What could you even do?

“I know, and ‘m so sorry pumpkin.” Your eyes were so full of worry and love that it felt like Jesse had just gotten punched in the stomach. “We’re here now. I can tell ya.”

“You don’t to, I’m just worried is all-”

“No,” he stopped you. He looked around the mess hall, his eyes locking on Moira who was already looking in his general direction. He saw the way she eyed between the two of you, eyes narrowing in thought. It sent shivers down his spine being in her sights. “Let’s go back to our room, I’ll tell ya there.”

Jesse stood up from his chair and offered you his hand which you took quickly. He lead you out of the mess hall, weaving through people and dodging chairs and tables before you both broke free from the noisy crowd. The walk back to your bedroom was mostly silent, just the sounds of both of your boots connecting with the metallic flooring filling the void until you reached his door. Once the door slid open, you both walked in and sat down on the bed next to each other.

Jesse felt like he was going to throw up. Not from pain, but from panic this time. How was he going to explain this to you?

You picked up on his unease, placing your hand right back onto his own as it grabbed at the edge of the bed. Just your touch alone soothed him, his shoulders stopped tensing.

“What happened in Washington, Jess?”

You gave him the beginning, all he needed to do was give you the middle and the end.

“Talon was usin’ an old base for somethin’. Overwatch was investigating but they needed to bring us in. When we got there, it was like a ghost town. Even saw where they set up camp, but it was a wreck. We had to go on foot to the base and it was in worse condition. We all got separated and…” Jesse had to stop. His throat felt dry again, and a little scratchy too. “I found ‘em. I found ‘em all.”

“Overwatch?”

“And Talon.”

Your eyebrows were thrown up as shock overtook your features.

“You don’t mean-”

“Dead. All of ‘em. The entire Overwatch team and probably all of Talon in that base.” Jesse felt sick to his stomach as he thought back. All of that blood splattered across that entire room. All of the gore flashing in front of his eyes like he was still back there. You squeezed his hand, reassuring his racing heart as it pounded in his ears. “I found what killed ‘em all.”

Shock quickly replaced itself with fear on your face. You knew exactly what he meant by ‘what’ not being ‘who.’

“What was in that base?”

Jesse shook his head, his throat feeling like it was closing up as the nightmarish memories haunted his vision. Those wicked claws, those crooked teeth, those putrid yellow eyes. And the smell. Oh God, the smell.

“Some kinda monster they made got out. Killed ‘em all then came after me.”

Jesse wanted to kick himself right in the ass. Why did he say monster? The horrified look on your face said it all. He caught you suddenly staring at his shoulder that he got bit on before looking back at his face.

The reality was starting to settle in Jesse’s gut.

Was it really a werewolf? Was he actually bitten by a werewolf?

Fear stabbed right through him just like in his nightmare as the terrifying thought crossed his mind: Is he going to turn into one?

No. There’s no fucking way. Werewolves are just a myth, a story, a made up thing to put in trashy monster movies. They’re not real. Whatever it was that attacked him was not a damn werewolf. It’s impossible.

He felt your hand caress his face, stroking at his stubbled jaw before turning his face to look at you by his chiseled chin. The moment your eyes met, Jesse felt that raging fear in his heart start to quell. You knew exactly how to calm him down.

He could smell the coffee on your breath, see the exhaustion in your eyes, feel the warmth of your skin on his. Just being here with you felt intoxicating.

There was that sweet smell again, that smell that was like heaven on earth that Jesse swore up and down that it had to be your perfume. It lulled his tense nerves, it fogged up his rattled mind. It smelled of the most luxurious chocolate out there in the world, like the sweetest of wines, like the most delectable fruit that he wanted to sink his teeth into.

He suddenly pressed his lips against yours, shocking you but you didn’t pull away. Jesse’s hands found your waist and tugged you in close, your hands reaching out to grab ahold of Jesse’s uniform for support at the edge of the bed. He nearly pulled you onto his lap before rolling you until your back was on the mattress. He hadn’t made the bed after his fitful sleep from last night, the flannel blanket was a rumpled mess beneath you as he straddled you by the waist. You broke from the kiss, placing your hands on Jesse’s broad shoulders to stop him before he could swipe another kiss from you.

“Don’t you have stuff to do today?” you worried.

“They can wait,” was all he said before his hungry lips found your once again.

You moaned as his rough stubble scratched nicely at your skin, how his hands fumbled with your chest and squeezed your breasts through your uniform. God, he wanted to rip it off of you so badly. He wanted to take you right here and right now but he couldn’t. You were right, after all. He didn’t know how much time he had until someone came to track him down.

Your hands snaked up to Jesse’s hair, knocking off his hat onto the bed and snagging a hold of his hair. Your fingers carded into his thick locks, tugging on the strands that needed a cut, scratching lightly at his scalp as he growled against your lips. He sank his teeth into your bottom lip, begging you to let him in which you graciously offered. Your tongues collided and danced together as he tried to explore your warm mouth. You’ve taken both his tongue and his dick so many times, and every time felt like pure perfection.

You couldn’t help but buck your hips up, getting a rise out of Jesse. He felt his cock start to tingle with life, slowly starting to press up against his boxers the more you moaned and whimpered and sighed as you made out with him. To keep his calm, Jesse snatched at the headboard, his nails biting into the wood as his other hand remained on your breast, kneading it passionately and pinching at your nipple to pebble it. He wanted to lick and bite at your tits so badly, to feel their soft warmth and weight in his hands, to pull such illicit moans from your mouth for him to swallow.

His hand started to cramp up from how tight his hand clamped against the headboard, his fingers started to ache.

A firm knock on the door startled you both, Jesse’s head shooting up to stare at the headboard in front of him and looking directly at his trembling hand clamped over the wood while you tried to calm your breathing.

“McCree, you in there?” It was Reyes, now, at a very, very bad time. “McCree, we need to talk. Get out here.” Jesse went to unlatch his hand from the headboard only to find that his fingertips were hard to remove, tugging back when he pulled on them until they popped out. Fear had quickly shot right through his entire body at the sight of long nails at the end of his fingers, slightly pointed and darker than his natural nail color. “McCree! I’m not gonna say it again!”

#blackwatch #blackwatch mccree #mccree x reader #mccree #jesse mccree #overwatch imagines #werewolf!mccree #werewolf mccree #werewolf cole cassidy #werewolf cassidy #cassidy x reader #cole cassidy

[sporadically-writing]

Since it Halloween season could you do head cannons with overwatch mcCree genji and mercy about there love who is a werewolf and they been trying to hide from them and when they transform the bones of sound like they’re breaking when asked about it they say that is used to the pain and they no cure for it and reader thought there lover would leave them because they didn’t think there love would wanna be with a monster

Sure! Always down for some spooky stuff! I know you said headcanons but these just came to me!

Cassidy

Cole had been walking home from the grocery store when it had happened. He had been gone for a handful of days and figured he’d do something nice on his way home. The only problem with this was by the time he had wrapped up and finally made his way to your shared home, it was dark. Well, not dark.

The full moon had seen to that. 

Cole had always liked full moons when he was a kid, thought they were probably the nicest thing to look at. That changed a bit when he met you. Now it was second. 

He had snuck inside the house, cursing himself when the screen door swung back a little too quickly, closing his eyes and wincing at the loud crashing sound.

Well, you were probably awake now thanks to that. 

“Come on Cole, try a little harder” he had whispered to himself. He took at deep breath and walked in, making his way quickly to the kitchen. He set the groceries down and called, “Darlin’ I’m home!”

No response. Hm.

“Sweetheart? I’m sorry about the door! We can try fixin’ it tomorrow huh? I got ice cream!”

Nothing again.

Okay, now he was starting to get worried. Something was definitely wrong. Neither of you were heavy sleepers. He understood why he was like that, the amount of time he spent in the Deadlock Gang and then Blackwatch after, those walks of life don’t exactly lead to heavy sleeping. He never quite understood why you were the same though. He never asked you, figured you might not want to talk about. Especially after how jumpy you seemed to get every once and a while. 

Cole checked every room in the house and could not find hide nor hair of you. This wasn’t good. He knew he hasn’t been home and he had planned on making his trip home a surprise, there was no reason that you had to be home right now and it would have been wild if you would have called to tell him where you were. Maybe that was it, maybe you were just out.

He had one place left to check though. He stepped outside, looking around the perimeter of the small farmhouse. Nothing.

He was all set to go back inside and bounce his knee sitting on the couch, when he heard it.

A cry of pain and the snap of something sounding like bone coming from the barn. 

It wasn’t really a barn, more of a small glorified shed than anything else. 

There was no mistaking it, that was your voice crying out in pain and Cole Cassidy would be damned to Hell and back if he didn’t do something about it. He rushed to the doors, using his robotic arm to rip the lock and chain off the door. Had someone locked you in there? It didn’t really matter who or what had done what to you in that moment. Whatever it was, Cole was going to put a stop to it.

He kicked the door down and was slightly surprised to see no one else in there with you. You were panting and chained up but otherwise there wasn’t a scratch on you.

“Darlin’?” Cole asked, rushing to your side.

“No! Wait!” You cried, shuffling away, hiding your face as quickly as you could. Oh god. Oh god, no. He wasn’t supposed to see you like this. Not yet. Not until you were ready to tell him.

Cole didn’t stop though, he stepped closer to you and stopped you with a hand on your cheek.

“Sweetheart, who did this to you? It’s gonna be okay, you’re safe now.”

You sighed. Damn it. Why did he have to be so sweet?

“I did this, love.”

“What?”

“It should be about done now, there’s a key under that rock over there, that’ll get me out of here. I’ll explain after.”

Cole gently lifted your head for a moment. He was planning on listening, he just wanted to see your face first. Everything about you was the same. That same wonderful face he had fallen in love with, except your eyes. Instead of their natural color, they were a fading shade of amber.

You frowned and he understood.

Once you were free, you gave him a hug, letting him know that you were okay and hopefully to make him feel a bit calmer about the situation.

“Soooooooo,” you began about as awkwardly as your probably could’ve, “I guess you’ve figured out by now... I’m a werewolf...”

“Darlin’ are you okay?”

“What?”

“Are you alright, honey?”

“I’m not crazy if that’s what you-”

“No!” he interrupted, “No. I don’t think you’re crazy. That wasn’t what I was trying to say. Are you alright, you sounded like you were in pain, sweetheart.”

“That’s cause I was.”

The blankness in your response broke his heart.

“Darlin’“ he whimpered.

“It’s okay. I’m used to it.” When he didn’t respond you continued, “And there isn’t a cure if that’s what you’re thinking next. I’ve tried just about everything. Half of them only made it worse.” You sighed again, “I tried to keep it a secret for so long. ‘Course I’d screw it up sooner or later...”

“Why would you hide this from me, pumpkin?”

“Because I didn’t want you to leave!” You said, tears beginning to well in your eyes, “Because I was scared that you would be just like everybody else. That... that you... wouldn’t see me anymore... just the monster.”

“Now you stop that right now.”

“What?”

Cole scooted closer and closed the distance between the two of you grabbing your shoulders, “You are NOT a monster, do you understand me? However you got this, it isn’t your fault. Wouldn’t see you anymore, how could I not? I think about you all the time, darlin.’ You are smart, strong and braver than I could ever hope to be. I love you more than anything in this world, okay? And nothing, not even a little lycanthropy is gonna stop that, you hear me?”

Tears of a different kind started to flow from your eyes and Cole panicked.

“What’s wrong? Are you okay? Does it still hurt? Did I touch something I shouldn't've? Did I say something wrong?”

You finally had to shut him up with a kiss. “No. You said everything right.”

Genji 

Genji had known you for a while, you happened to be one of Zenyatta’s students alongside him. You had gotten there a little bit after he did and the two of you hit it off (once he was a little more friendly that is). 

He never asked you what you were there for, figuring that was personal. If you wanted to share it with him you would.

He wouldn’t find out until years later.

It was a particularly cold night outside the temple in Nepal. It was late, or was it early? Regardless of the grayness of descriptors for the time of night/morning it was, Genji had woken up. 

Zenyatta’s teachings, though helpful in healing the anger the Shimada had felt as a result of what his family had done to him, did not stop the nightmares from coming. They did, however, offer means of winding down after one. Genji had taken to taking walks after his nightmares, he found they cleared his head and given his armored body, the temperatures didn’t really effect him as they probably should. 

He had taken a nice, soothing walk around the grounds, breathing easier in the cold night air and enjoying the beauty of the untouched snow at night. He was also entertaining himself with thoughts of you. You see, the two of you had been engaging in tentative little courtship for the past year. The two of you were close to something, you were just focused on healing yourselves first.

Genji, despite the nightmare that had woken him, was having a relatively nice night. That was, until he found some tracks in the snow. 

They were strange, larger than any foot prints he had ever seen. They were also staggered strangely, as if the being they belonged to was in a great deal of pain. Genji quickly grabbed his weapons, just in case, and followed the prints where the led. 

They led to the mouth of a cave, the tracks stopping as soon as they reached the covered rock floor. Whatever made the tracks was inside. He was debating whether or not he should go inside to investigate when he heard a scream. 

It was your’s.

He rushed into action immediately, acting more on instinct than anything else, and charged into the cave.

He found you relatively quickly, you had not hidden yourself very well, assuming no one would follow you and, to be fair to yourself, dealing with quite a bit of pain. 

“Y/N?” Genji asked, rushing toward you.

“No! Stay away from me!”

He paused but did not move away.

“You weren’t supposed to know.”

The transformation was mostly finished at this point, but there was no way Genji didn’t see at least enough to know the truth. 

“I wasn’t supposed to know what?” he asked.

“That I’m cursed. That no matter how hard I try to heal, I will always be a beast.”

Genji sighed sadly, placing a hand softly on your shoulder. He pressed the button on the side of his mask and took it off, revealing his eyes. He looked serious.

He stared at you intensely and said, “Y/N, I’m a cyborg.”

Whatever tension you had tried to maintain, was broken instantly.

“What?” you asked, laughing slightly.

You were so caught up in your own miserable situation, coming off basically getting hit by a train with the amount of pain you usually went through, that you had never expected him to say that.

And the mischief in Genji’s eyes was enough to tell you that he also knew that.

Genji laughed as a smile you couldn’t see reached his eyes. “We all come here for our own reasons. All of us need to heal in one way or another. There is no time limit on how long it is supposed to take you. You will get there eventually, it will simply take time. And,” he added, “there is nothing wrong about your abilities. I think it’s cool! I wish I could turn into a dragon!”

“Alright,” you chuckled, “you’ve made your point.”

“Let’s get you out of the cold,” he said, noticing your shivers.

Mercy

For reasons unknown to Angela, you would never accept her as your doctor for checkups. You would always request Ana to check on you and patch you up. Angela didn’t have any reason to find this suspicious and she wasn’t even bothered by it really. She just figured you’d rather have Ana watch over you so she wouldn’t worry.

You always told her she worried too much. She couldn’t really help it though, she loved you and she wanted to make sure you were okay. You would do the same for her.

Things were a little shaky for the two of you sometimes. You had been a Blackwatch agent back in the day and despite all odds, the two of you found your way into a cozy little relationship. Angela always thought that it was Blackwatch’s worst kept secret that they really were a bunch of softies. Nothing wrong with that though. She loved it.

After the Swiss Base Incident, the two of you didn’t see each other for a long time. You both had tried to find each other when everything went haywire but you were both forced to evacuate before finding the other.

Now that the two of you had each other back, it was hard not to be at least a little worried about the other.

That translates into the field as well.

You both had been sent on the same mission along with a few other agents. The intel had been good on the outset. However, you found out that Murphy’s Law is constantly in effect no matter how well laid your plans are. 

You and Angela had gotten yourselves separated from the rest of your team, and, just to make matters so much worse, you were nearly surrounded. The cherry on top too, you could hear your allies calling frantically for your help over the comms. One of them was down. 

Weighing your options, you knew you really only had one card to play right now. Angela needed to get out of here and without a distraction, you knew that she couldn’t.

“Angela,” you told her, “You need to go.”

“What? What about you?!”

“I’ll be fine! Get to safety! I’ll meet up with you all when we’re done!”

“der Liebling, I’m not leaving you!”

You sighed out, looked back at her softly before you’re voice shifted. “Please, go!” The yell that came from you sounded much more like a growl by the time you were finished with it. Hair had already started growing on your arms. 

Angela gasped but got the message and she escaped while you and the abilities gained by your painful transformation covered her.

Once you had changed back you met back with the team as promised. Your quick thinking saved the mission actually. You couldn’t bare to look Mercy in the eyes though. Regardless of how much she heard after she made her escape, she still knew the truth about you. 

Angela was grateful, despite you not speaking with you at the moment, that you didn’t refuse her help this time. She checked you over, nursing what injuries were needed and then she left you be. You weren’t sure if you were grateful or not. 

As soon as you were back on base and as soon as she had the opportunity however, Angela grabbed you (she is surprisingly strong for her size, must be handling unruly patients) and dragged you into a room, standing in front of the door.

“Are we going to talk about what happened?” The voice she used to ask the question was firm but not unkind. She wasn’t going to force you to tell her but she made it clear that she wanted an answer. 

“I’ve been trying to keep it a secret for a reason, love.”

“Why?” she asked, sweeter, sadder, this time.

“Why?” you asked, incredulous, “Because I’m a monster? Because I’m something we tell children about to scare them into behaving? Because of what O’Deorain’s experiments made me? What more do you need?”

Angela was quiet for a long moment, you would almost describe it as surgical, the way she was handling the situation. She knew you well enough by now that your mood right now was very fragile and she did not want to make you feel any worse than you already did. Quite the opposite actually.

Angela sat down next to you, not touching you yet. She wasn’t afraid, she just wanted to make sure you weren’t.

“Would a monster come back after all this time to ensure they made a positive difference in the world? Would a monster be as loving to their friends as you are?” she paused for a beat before, “Would a monster have given me the chance to save someone else?”

You heart ached in a good way as you smiled at the doctor. You reached for her hand and brought it up to cup your cheek.

“Thank you love.”

“You’re not nearly as scary as you think you are, schatz.”

The two of you dissolved into laughter, you stopping only momentarily to kiss Angela’s cheek.

Happy Halloween!

#cole cassidy x reader #cassidy x reader #mccree x reader #jesse mccree x reader #genji x reader #genji shimada x reader #mercy x reader #angela ziegler x reader #overwatch x reader #overwatch 2 x reader #x reader #headcanons #overwatch headcanons #imagines #overwatch imagines #werewolf!reader #spooky prompt

[yeehanfrf]

Week 12 Recs: Simple Pleasures

Week 12's theme was "Simple Pleasures," or PWPs. Whether you think it stands for "Plot? What plot?" or "Porn without Plot," the point is these are all short (or short enough) and smutty.

Behind the cut, you'll find the recs gathered from the Yeehan community. These are all rated Explicit this week, so they're organized alphabetically by title.

A little bit scandalous, but, baby, don't let them see it by doctorziegler [4,843 words]

There are some things that Hanzo wants kept under lock and key.

A Picture In Blue by Hoodedscarlet [4,835 words]

The mission was nothing to write home about on the surface; some casino in Monaco with corrupt Talon agents and blood money on their hands. Jesse knew that they'd have to dress the part to even get in the door; nice clothes, good hair, the regular works to blend in among the rich.

But he hadn't expected this - Hanzo walking out dressed up like he owned the place, hair slicked back and suit immaculately fitted. He looked good enough for McCree to sink to his knees in awe - and with him down there, looking at Hanzo with doe eyes, both of them had some ideas for how they should spend the time before the mission...

all the better to eat you with (my dear) by Hoodedscarlet [12,798 words]

An assassin specialises in disappearing into the shadows, making himself one with the quiet and the unknown. But one can become too good at slipping into the darkness - and when McCree realises that perhaps this time Hanzo hadn't planned for this it's too late to save him. When Overwatch get a note with a location and the words 'Come get him' , they have to go and save their friend - and the man that McCree meets is not entirely the same one he remembers.

Bend Over, I'll Drive by millenial_falcon [4,407 words]

Twenty-four hours ago they had been discretely sniffing around LumériCo’s newest installation, playing the part of road-trippers laying over in town for a couple of days. Now, Cassidy is driving to beat the devil, with Hanzo pressed warm and solid against his side.

Blowing Off Steam by FanficsbyVe [4,654 words]

After a rotten day, McCree finds an unexpected visit by Hanzo makes everything better. One-shot.

Bounty by orphan_account [4,853 words]

“I know a great deal of things about you... A common criminal who gained status on merit of his skill. A former Blackwatch operative. A competent mercenary. You have impressed me, but there remains one thing I have not figured out yet... Do you like men, Jesse McCree?”

McCree and Hanzo have worked together on more than one occasion and Hanzo proposes a mutually beneficial 'arrangement'.

But I Don't Have No Money by dicktrickle [9,676 words] Reccer comment: "hanzo wrecks his car and gets himself wrecked in turn"

Hanzo was stranded in the desert, his car stuck in the only shop for 50 miles. Without his wallet.

He was going to kill Genji. But not before paying the rugged mechanic for his services with the clothes off his back.

Difficult Men by motorghost [10,378 words] Reccer 1 comment: "PLS READ THIS ONE RN (but mind the tags)"

Reccer 2 comment: "Not just a favorite PWP, but one of my fave Yeehan fics overall."

A newer, smaller Overwatch has just had their first victory and Cole's going to celebrate the only way he knows how: with questionable substances, unsavory characters and maybe inadvisable deeds.

Dim City Glow by Interrobang [6,485 words] Reccer comment: "I know we're focusing on the smut, but I truly adore the lived in feeling of the relationships Interrobang writes WITH their great smut."

Hanzo steps away from a party for a breath of fresh air, but McCree is more than distracting enough to keep Hanzo from gathering his thoughts.

Good thing Hanzo doesn't need to think much for this anyway.

Dying Grass Moon by motorghost [7,774 words]

The hunter Cole Cassidy finds a creature in the forest who needs his help. Clearly the giant white wolf isn't from around here, but it's dangerous to pry into a spirit's affairs.

Freebie by robocryptid [2,945 words]

Cole's thoughts are a dull buzz. Foggy, clouded with need. He’s aching inside, hot and softening up, and Shimada… Fuck Shimada.

Probably never had to work to get laid. Just shows up. Claims no presumptions, but why the fuck was he there, then? That’s all it takes. All he has to do. Now he’s in Cole’s head.

Giving a Finger by hunahuna_un [10,487 words] Reccer comment: "I'll also toss in one of mine, bc we all need more cowboy with oral fixation~"

The intel mission about the Null Sector goes sideways so Hanzo and Jesse are forced to retreat into a safe house. Little did they know how Jesse’s nicotine withdrawals would test their patience.

He only gave a finger...

heron by cowboyflesh (cowboymeat), G0REPUP [4,905 words] Reccer comment: "no one knows who's the hunter and who's the hunted"

McCree scavenges, picks up what he can; opportunistic. He’s been around quite a bit and isn’t one to settle down. 

Hanzo hunts. Unassuming, poised as demure and uptight, something to be taken apart and ruined and not the other way around.

Allowing the gunslinger's broad palm to slip into his kimono, Hanzo turns and looks up at him with practiced pleasantry. A soft smile, toothless and submissive, as McCree’s eyes narrow at him. He grins hungrily, the lingering laughter still left on his lips as his attention is taken by the archer’s act.

“Gettin’ to be late, why don’t we take this back to my quarters?” McCree drawls, soft and smooth as can be as he massages Hanzo’s shoulder, sweetening the deal.

I got this fever, fever burning inside by CourtneyCourtney [11,300 words]

Hanzo has heard stories of this 'weapon', the most lurid tales courtesy of McCree, naturally. A libido accelerant Talon injects intravenously, giving its victims the option of mauling a stranger for sexual release, forcing themselves on a teammate and ruining any trust built between the two, or - to quote Jesse's turn of phrase - dying of "blue balls."

In other words, not a way for someone like Jesse McCree to go. Not if Hanzo is determined to help. It would be a shame to lose a colleague as altruistic and reliable as McCree to a weapon so primitive.

If he has to choke out the voice at the back of his mind questioning his own altruism in performing this act, then so be it.

(or, McCree gets sex pollened by Talon, and Hanzo helps him out the way any good friend would (Really. Stop gagging, Genji.))

Imagination Infatuation by Partymeowth [9,117 words] Reccer comment: "steaming hot phone sex"

After many, many years of having crushes he’s forbidden from acting upon, Hanzo's used to relying on his imagination to make up for the absence of anything concrete.

Infatuation by ChillieBean [2,131 words]

Cole was jogging on the treadmill, and ten minutes in he removed his shirt. Hanzo did not think anything of it at the time, it is nothing he had not seen before, but when he stole a glance a few minutes later, he could not tear his eyes away.

While Cole was intently focused on his workout and completely oblivious to Hanzo’s leering, with his gloriously hairy, muscled chest and trim waist on show, Hanzo noticed that his pecs were bouncing with each step.

Bouncing. That is a testament to just how fit he is for someone who drinks, smokes and eats the greasiest food he can get his hands on. He has pecs. They bounce. And Hanzo needs them.

It Will Come Back by CorvidFightClub [3,434 words]

McCree and Hanzo are captured by a gang somewhere in the American Midwest after a mission. The situation becomes more dire when Hanzo finds out the gang isn’t the only thing he has to worry about.

Known by vaguely_concerned [1,217 words] Reccer comment: "slow and sweet sex"

Just some happy sex.

Love and Comfort in Gibraltar by ChillieBean [2,879 words]

Hanzo pulls his hand away from that scar and moves his hand back up to rest his hand in the middle of his chest, skipping the same two scars like he always does. Cole doesn’t mind honestly, Hanzo knows his story, he knows why they’re there. It’s not like they’re not that easy to see these days with the hair that’s covering his chest now, but Hanzo’s always been careful to avoid touching them.

Cole thinks about telling their story, weighing up the option of giving Hanzo the distraction or just comforting him in silence. Hanzo knows the story of every other scar on his body, what they make Cole feel when he looks at them.

He thinks again about the trust Hanzo has in him, and decides it’s time.

“I ever tell you about the other two scars?”

Mile High Noon by motorghost [7,055 words]

Two late-thirties bounty hunters break some minor sky-laws.

Nantaimori by ChillieBean [15,403 words]

It had been months in the making, and it was supposed to be a straightforward night: Be Hanzo Shimada's personal waiter, gather intel on a potential partnership with a neighbouring clan, get out without making any waves.

Cole's plans come to a crashing halt when he is asked instead to be the nantaimori—to lie naked for the duration of the meeting while Hanzo eats sushi off him.

Only You Can Cool My Desire by robocryptid [4,202 words] Reccer comment: "cuddling for warmth, my favorite trope and just for me!"

Tasked with cataloging Overwatch assets, Cole and Hanzo spend the night in one safehouse. This one's supposed to be well-equipped, but it's cold as hell and the tiny space heater just isn't suited to the task.

Pine Woods by coinin [14,659 words] Reccer comment: "'Pine Woods' because cozy cabin! And snow!"

After a mission goes awry, Cassidy and Hanzo are forced to flee into the Finnish wilderness. Will they find shelter before they freeze to death? And more importantly, what are they going to do to stave off boredom if they do find safety?

Poker Face by Cadeykat [28,383 words]

“Shark, my ass. Man cleared out $60,000 at the first table he played at.”

Hanzo shrugs, silently delighting in how Daniel sucks in a bracing breath at his nonchalance. Oh, he loves riling him up. Serves him right for calling him in on his day off. “So? That’s not entirely uncommon. Perhaps he’s just good at poker.”

“He’s won almost $250 grand over the last four days.”

Oh.

This is going to be fun.

Say My Name by ChillieBean [9,448 words] Reccer comment: "spite fucking in the most delicious way possible"

Things have been good. Better than Cole thought when he first reluctantly signed up. There wasn't a problem this new team couldn't solve, they gelled together like they have been working together for years.

And things had been good, right until Genji invited his brother to join them.

Cole hadn’t really factored in just how angry seeing Hanzo’s stupid smug face made him. He’s sure the stick up Hanzo’s ass has a stick up its ass. And the shitty part of it all is that Hanzo hasn’t done anything since joining to warrant his anger. Hanzo’s polite, he keeps to himself most of the time, and in group settings, he gets along with everyone.

Yet, all Cole can see when he lays his eyes on him is the carnage done by his hands; Genji’s bloodied body gasping for air.

Shoot to Kill by robocryptid [2,963 words] Reccer comment: "Cupid Hanzo Cupid Hanzo Cupid Hanzo"

Cole convinces Hanzo that Overwatch's Valentine's Day party is a costume party. It's supposed to be a light hazing, a way to welcome Hanzo into the fold. He doesn't expect it to backfire quite so spectacularly.

Slip of the Tongue by robocryptid [5,840 words] Reccer 1 comment: "some of thee dirtiest dirty talk I've had the pleasure to read"

Reccer 2 comment: "Cassidy's weaponised voice results in accidental phone sex"

This was meant to be Cassidy’s job. He did the research, studied the blueprints, laid out the plan. Two nights before he hoped to depart, he broke his leg from a nasty fall. If Hanzo didn’t take over, Cassidy would lose the opportunity entirely. The compromise was simple: Hanzo would do the work on his behalf, but Cassidy would not have to relinquish full control. Instead he remained connected by a standard Overwatch communicator and a minuscule camera.

Hanzo offered of his own free will. He chose this. His only regret is that Cassidy seems incapable of giving instructions that don’t sound like innuendo.

Soothe the Itch by fishpoets [2,650 words]

Jesse wakes restless and irritated, with an insistent urge to clamp something between his lips. Maybe Hanzo can help.

sparring gone sexy by Dio Almark (dancingassassin) [9,659 words]

Hanzo thought that inviting Jesse McCree to be his sparring and training partner had been a good idea. At least at first. They were both mercenaries, training together would keep them at the top of their game. That was all well and good, but then Hanzo had to go and fall for the cowboy.

Truth or Dare: Loophole by thtzwhatuthink [1,213 words] Reccer comment: "a simple, short, but very dirty truth-or-dare situation"

“I dare you to tell McCree all the dirty things you would do to him if given the chance—right now, and out loud.” Hanzo is unfazed by the dare; he is a man of few words in casual conversation, and of even fewer in work settings. When Hanzo smirks, Genji’s smug grin falters a little. He found a loophole.

Truth or Dare: Piercings by thtzwhatuthink [5,610 words]

Playing Poker while a game of Truth or Dare goes on in the same room will inevitably get a certain Cowboy involved in a rather pleasing predicament. Especially with the help of some good ol' brotherly bickering about... inappropriate piercings.

Truth or Dare: Thongs by thtzwhatuthink [5,446 words]

Leave it to Genji to dare Tracer to get her underwear drawer from her room and set it down in the middle of the truth or dare circle. Resident Cowboy is dared to put a thong on, and he's not the only one. In fact, the thongs are merely a catalyst for what Hanzo gets himself into tonight.

what ails you by motorghost [4,858 words] Reccer 1 comment: "Hanzo gets injured and Cole visits him in the hospital. Very hot, great dirty talk."

Reccer 2 comment: "lives rent-free in my head"

A bad injury puts Hanzo in the medbay for a week. Cole pays him a visit in the night.

Wolf by Phylix [3,946 words]

Hanzo awakens in the night to see Jesse needy and asleep. He takes matters into his own hands.

---

And that's a wrap on the Week 12 recs! Thank you so much to everyone who submitted a recommendation.

If you happen to find a fic you love using this rec list, be sure to leave the author kudos and a comment! Even "I found this fic because someone recced it" is a lovely thing to say.

Keep an eye out for next week's theme: "It's About the Yearning," or all the pining your heart can stand.

In the meantime, you can also check out the Week 11 recs here, or check the full list of past and future themes here.

#yeehan #yeehan fic recs #yeehanfrf #cole cassidy #hanzo shimada #overwatch fanfiction #author: doctorziegler #author: Hoodedscarlet #author: millenial_falcon #author: FanficsbyVe #author: orphan_account #author: dicktrickle #author: motorghost #author: Interrobang #author: robocryptid #author: hunahuna_un #author: cowboyflesh #author: G0REPUP #author: CourtneyCourtney #author: Partymeowth #author: ChillieBean #author: CorvidFightClub #author: vaguely_concerned #author: coinin #author: Cadeykat #author: fishpoets #author: Dio Almark #author: thtzwhatuthink #author: Phylix #week 12

[visforvictini13]

Name: Cole Cassidy

Trainer Card Number: 601

Gender: Male

Series Of Origin: Overwatch

Type Specialty: Dark

Skuntank, Golisopod & Absol: Priority Moves that would be on the team of a Gunslinger

Cacturne: I mean, talk about sucker punch and pin needles

Magnezone: Magnet Grenade (or Magnet Bomb to me)

Hisuian Braviary: "Armed with his Peacekeeper revolver, Cassidy takes out targets with deadeye precision and dives out of danger with eagle-like speed." And rather than giving him a Braviary like McCree, give him the other Braviary

#pokémon #pokemon #cassidy #cassidy overwatch #overwatch cassidy #overwatch #skuntank #golisopod #absol #cacturne #Magnezone #hisuian braviary #cole cassidy

[sleepyfaequeen]

Jealousy

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

Warnings: fluff, Gabriel Reyes x fem!reader

Requested: No

Pairing: Gabriel Reyes x reader

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Oh well, congratulations!" The cowboy cheers.

--

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

#overwatch #fanfic #x reader #blizzard #oneshot #gabriel reyes #love story #genji shimada #cole cassidy #jesse mccree #moira o'deorain #jack morrison #ana amari

[yandere-genji]

Omfg you’re bully!Gabriel had me weak in the knees!!! Please make a second part! I’d very much appreciate it!!!

hnng after writing these college au prompts i am actually convinced this is peak content//fem!reader in this one homies

The semester had started just a few weeks ago but you dove headfirst into your studies like a madman. Carefully studying your textbook and making notes for chapters well in advance, this was the part of your studies that invigorated you the most. You truly enjoyed the material and what would seem like a chore to anyone else was an odd thrill to you. Not only that, but studying was enriching and you hoped your future would benefit from your dedication to your field. Still, you missed socializing with your friends.

In fact, since your encounter with Gabe, you had become a recluse. The last thing you wanted was to chance another run-in with him. It must’ve gotten him off knowing he had such an effect on you, but you didn’t care to indulge him any further than that. So, you continued your studies but never stayed on campus long enough to fraternize with anyone. After class, you went straight to the comfort of your dorm, where you were sure to be safe.

Your dorm mate, Angela, was your only source of interaction. The two of you got along well, both hardworking students. You understood each other, it had been a blessing that she was assigned as your roommate. And she was happy to be your shoulder to lean on while you were keeping to yourself, allowing you to rant about your courses and professors as you pleased. But to your dismay, Angela had grown concerned for you. Obviously you had undergone a change of some kind, one that was affecting you for the worse.

“You know,” she chided, “I can’t be your only source of comfort. I love you, honey, but what’s going on with you?”

You sighed, not wanted to go through the stress of explaining anything to her, “I just…I don’t know. College, I guess.”

“My God, you’re a terrible liar,” she scoffed, “Am I going to have to mother you like this the whole semester?”

“I mean…” you rolled onto your back, looking up at her from your mattress, “am I so needy that I’m becoming a nuisance?”

Angela giggled and sat against your mattress on the floor, meeting your eyes with her icy blues, “I’m just worried. We should go out sometime together. You know, somewhere that’s not here.”

You shrugged, “Maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. But I have some exams coming up that I have to study for…”

She cut you off, “You’ve been studying for those exams for weeks. Come on, it’s Halloween season, you know. Ana is hosting a costume party and I’m just dying to go, I have the cutest angel outfit, wanna see?”

“Jesus, it’s almost November, and then December. Angela, before we know it, the semester’s over!” you propped yourself up on your elbows, “Ugh. Whatever. I kinda wanna see your costume, though. What’re you going for, like a Victoria’s Secret vibe or like Catholic school stage play angel?”

“That’s the best part,” she jumped up, headed for the closet, “it’s both!”

Seeing her so excited made you match her energy. It had been some time since you dressed up for Halloween. And you’d never been to a costume party before, let alone a college party. It sounded like great fun.

Angela emerged from the closet, glowing brightly from the sequins of her white dress. She looked radiant, the corset of the dress fit snuggly around her waist and the short skirt puffed around her hips. It seemed like the dress had been made for her. She flashed you a beaming smile, “What do you think? Isn’t it cute? Oh, you have to come to the party. We should have matching costumes!”

You were never as giddy as when you were with Angela. She brought out the girly side of you that laid dorment whenever you were enveloped in your coursework. You stood up and fiddled with the wings attached to her back, “It’s so cute on you, Angie, but I couldn’t pull something like that off. Plus, it suits you better.”

She pushed your hand away and began to take the wings off of her, “Try it, at least. See if you like it.”

The pajamas you had on would certainly look silly with the wings, you thought, but she insisted. The elastic bands pulled at your shoulders and chaffed your skin. You examined yourself in the mirror, clearly uncomfortable.

“Seriously, Angie, you’re much more the angel type,” you started, already taking off the wings, “I don’t know. I think I’d like to go to the party, but I have no idea what I’d go as.”

She hummed inquisitively, examining you like the fairy godmother of your dreams, “They have those Halloween stores this time of year. Why don’t we shop around today, get you ready for the party. It’s not until the weekend anyways, plenty of time to get you dolled up.”

You agreed, no longer hesitant and finally ready to leave your books and pajamas behind. The two of you set off to a large strip mall just outside campus that had been decorated to theme. Purple and orange garlands framed the stores and pumpkins littered the ground with the vibrant fall leaves. Angela led you by the hand to a large department store full of costumes. Witches, clowns, a bloody nurse, a zombie maid, and a very tempting banana suit. But none of them seemed to appeal to you.

“Oh my gosh, this is perfect for you!” Angela almost squealed in excitement.

“What is it?” you asked, discarding a pirate wench’s corset dress.

She lifted up a plaid, pleated skirt shorter than your own underwear, “Slutty schoolgirl, what do you think? I mean, it’s basically what you wear everyday. Just slut-ified.”

“Great…” you groaned, turning away from her and averting your attention to a werewolf mask on the make up shelf next to you.

It had masks and palettes with artificial blood. Strange to think people willingly put that stuff on their face. Lord knows what was in those things. The palettes were cheap and certainly weren’t made from the highest quality face products. You could already feel your skin breaking out just by being in proximity to them.

“Oh,” you heard Angela raise her voice behind you, “what’s this?”

She picked up some sort of pencil, it looked like an eyebrow pencil but the tip was a much darker black than what you had seen. She looked at the pencil, then at you, then the pencil again. Her brain was brewing up an idea that you weren’t sure you were going to like.

“You know, there is a universal Halloween costume that I know you will like,” she began, “something so basic but so cute that you can’t possibly say no to it!”

You were not sure where she was getting this newfound confidence from, but she had your attention by the way she was selling her idea. “And that is?” you asked.

“A black cat!” she opened her mouth in feigned shock, “My goodness, what an idea! And I could be a witch! Oh, that’d be so adorable! Oh, let’s do it!”

“What about your angel costume?” you asked.

“Oh, well. I mean, I just had to buy the wings, I already had that dress from my sweet sixteen. Or was it prom? Can’t remember,” she shrugged, “Come on, let’s pick out a witch costume and see what else they have for you, my kitty.”

Angela was already getting into character, there was certainly no swaying her now. Besides, going as a cat wasn’t so bad. She was right, it would be cute couple’s costume. You sighed, “Alright, let’s go.”

You felt like an actual pet being led by Angela as she scoured the aisles looking for accessories for the both of you. In the end, she decided on some fluffy cat ears that tied around your own, a thin choker attached to a leash and a flattering black skin suit fitted with a fuzzy tail. For herself, she found a short witch’s dress with matching gloves, a hat, and a wooden broom, of course. Both of you went into the fitting rooms to try on your outfits. Your suit hugged your curves and complimented the shape of your body. The leash, in your humble opinion, was a little much for you, but Angela insisted upon it. You were surprised with the quality of the costume and were content to wear it for the party. Angela was too, happily praising her own styling intuition. It was beginning to darken outside and the two of you headed back to your dorm after a successful day of shopping.

——

Your days were starting to look brighter. There was something to look forward to and because of the busy fall season, you were able to keep to yourself. Angela wasn’t pestering you about leaving the dorm and your anxieties about Gabe were getting weaker by the day. If this was becoming your new norm, it wasn’t so bad.

The party came sooner than expected and you were nervous as ever the day of. To you knowledge, only Angela and a couple of people you knew would be in attendance. Ana was an acquaintance, you had seen her at the library cafe from time to time and waved to her, but the two of you had completely different majors. She was close to Angela, but you didn’t know much else about her.

Angela said there would be boys too, much to your dismay. There were two suitors of hers she was anticipating to meet. One of which was Genji. You shared your comp sci class with him and he was a good guy as far as you were concerned. He was cute and seemed like a good fit for her. Then there was Jack. You’d seen him with Gabe, and that was as much information as you needed to know about him. He seemed cocky, probably only wanted Angela for her looks, something to show off at parties. You told her you much preferred Genji, and she agreed.

“But men have to earn you,” she said, “or else it’s too easy for them. It’s like playing tug of war with a puppy. You know you’re going to win, but it’s no fun for them that way.”

“Um,” you started reluctantly, “I don’t know if that’s true at all.”

“Oh, what do you know about boys, you’re still a virgin!” she giggled at herself and your cheeks burned red.

“Whatever…” you replied, “how big is this party going to be? I might have to cling to you.”

“Oh, you’ll definitely have to cling to me. Why do you think I insisted on matching?” she said, patting her face with blush.

“You’re okay with me being so clingy?” you asked.

“I’m well used to it by now,” she smiled at you, brushing her hair.

“I’m not usually like this, you know,” you started, “it’s just been so weird lately.”

“Dont worry about it. If you need me, I’ll be here. Let’s just enjoy our time tonight, yea?” her words soothed you and the two of you agreed to ride whatever wave of emotion you were on until it subsided. You weren’t sure where you would be without Angela holding your hand through this. Her words about you being a virgin reminded you again of Gabe and you wondered if he would show his face at the party. Jack was going, sure, but probably only to met Angela there. Gabe definitely didn’t seem the type to go to a costume party and you doubted he even knew Ana or Angela very well if at all. You deserved some time away from all the drama and stress of college, you thought. This was the perfect opportunity to decompress and allow yourself some fun.

Once the two of you were dressed and made up, you eagerly drove out to Ana’s house in the suburbs. It was festive, the lawn was decorated with skeletons, bones, tombstones, and a blown-up haunted house gated the entrance. Ana was waiting outside, dressed like a pirate with a fake parrot over her shoulder. Her smile was inviting and she welcomed you with open arms.

“Argh mateys,” she mustered her best pirate voice, though it wasn’t very convincing, “are ye ready to party?”

“What is wrong with you?” Angela scoffed, “That voice is painful.”

“Fine, but you can’t tell me this isn’t the best pirate costume you have ever seen,” Ana retorted. It really was, you had to admit. The neutral leathers of her belt complimented her white blouse and flowing pants.

“The boots are a nice touch, with the heels and all,” you complimented her with a smile.

“Don’t entertain her,” Angela chided, “it’ll go right to her head.”

“Not as fast as the rum will,” Ana opened the door to her house and gestures for the two of you to come inside.

The interior was just as festive. It was illuminated by purple string lights and tv screens playing old horror movies you didn’t recognize. Bottles of liquor and fruit juice lined the kitchen along with bowls of snacks and candy. You were tempted to drift away from Angela that instant, but she pulled you by the hand to a crowd of people on the couch.

There was Genji. Dressed as a flashing neon green power ranger, smiling from ear to ear and looking directly at Angela. He was like a fool in love, it was sweet to witness. With him was another man who looked a couple years older than him, same black hair but longer and tied back. He wore a beautiful black suit, Men in Black, maybe? There was no obvious indication of what his costume was. Across the boys were two girls, one with a high ponytail in a graceful ballet dress and another with a striking duo-toned black and white updo that flattered her pained green skin. Bride of Frankenstein, easily the best costume you’d seen yet. You didn’t recognize any of them, but Angela was quick to introduce you.

“Scoot over, Genji. Make some room for us,” Angela patted the spot next to her and you sat, “Have you met Hanzo before? He’s Genji’s brother.”

Hanzo gave you a curt nod, said something to Genji, and returned his attention to his drink. You met the attention of the girl in the ponytail across from him.

“Hi,” you extended a hand, “I don’t think we’ve met, what’s your-“

“Amelie,” she replied before you finished, her tongue was sweet and smooth as silk, “This is my friend, Olivia.”

“Friends, are we?” she laughed, looked at you, “nice to meet you, heard a lot about you.”

“Me?” you asked puzzled.

“Uh-huh,” she rose from her seat, “excuse me, there’s someone I have to met.”

Something about her tone left you feeling uneasy, like there was some nefarious plan you weren’t left privy to. But Angela kept you from thinking any further into it, offering you a bottle of beer.

“No thanks,” you said, “I don’t know if we should be drinking tonight.”

Her and Genji laughed, “You’re at a party, honey,” she wrapped your fingers around the bottle, “live a little, yea?”

And you did. Although Hanzo seemed stone cold, he loosened up with a few drinks and was eager to chat with you and the group. He told you stories of his childhood with Genji in Japan. There was a lot to learn from him and Genji often interrupted his brother before he was about to say something extremely embarrassing. You and Amelie bonded over a few drinks, both of you being impartial to beer, she offered you mixed fruit drinks instead. She had you giggling like a school girl as she played with your costume.

“I wanted to be cat woman,” she explain, “but didn’t have the time to prepare a proper costume. You look exquisite.”

It made you blush, though it was hardly noticeable through your drunken red face, “I think you would’ve made a great cat woman. You’re a beautiful ballerina.”

She cackled, very amused at your joke. You didn’t quite understand what was so funny, but you gave a light chuckle to entertain her, “Look at you, you’re laughing and yet you have no idea why.”

You weren’t sure if she was mocking you or genuinely thought you were endearing, “Sorry, maybe it’s the alcohol.”

“Well, you two are really enjoying each other’s company!” Angela remarked, “Wanna go outside for a bit? I have to touch up my makeup, the heat in here is unbearable.”

“Sure,” you replied, you weren’t sure what she had in mind, but she came to the party with a plan and you intended to help her, “Amelie? Want to join us?”

The three of you took your leave and left the two brothers behind. You followed Angela to the back of the house with Amelie in tow. It was much quieter and intimate, a nice relief from the crowded party.

“Ugh, I’m starting to drink too much,” Angela bemoaned, taking a breath of the fresh air, “if Jack doesn’t come soon I might just fall asleep in Genji’s arms.”

“Jesus, Angela,” you reprimanded her, “why even bother with Jack? You’re playing those two boys.”

“I admire you, Angela,” Amelie said and turned to you, putting a gentle hand on your shoulder, “those two boys need something to play with or they tire quickly. You’re too innocent, dear. These are just the ways of a masterful seductress.”

The two girls laughed among themselves. You sighed, “Not you too, Amelie. This is just cruel. Genji is so sweet, he really brings out the best in you. And Jack…he’s so upity.”

“Why don’t you just take Genji for yourself, then,” Amelie suggested.

“What? No way, he’s not even into me. I’m not into him, either. But him and Angela really make a cute couple,” you said, looking to Angela. She seemed to be eating up the conversation with a satisfied grin.

“Oh? What are you into, then? Not the nerdy type…maybe the jocks? Oh, don’t tell me, you’re into Jack, aren’t you?” Amelie was being obviously playful, but you weren’t sober enough to detect it.

“No! You know there are more boy on this planet than Genji and Jack, right? Ugh, never,” you leaned against the wall, arms folded.

“Okay, let’s see. What about Hanzo? He’s handsome,” she remarked.

“I don’t know, I don’t really like to think about boys like that. I’m way too busy with school,” you said, fiddling with the leash that dangled onto your chest.

“I think you’re getting somewhere Amelie!” Angela was engrossed, hanging on the every word.

“Maybe not Hanzo. Then who else can I think of. Oh, of course! You go to the same school as Gabriel Reyes, don’t you?,” she spoke intently, closely examining your face.

At the sound of his name you couldn’t help the way your body responded. You froze, almost shuddered, and you legs involuntarily squeezed together. The heat in your face was almost unbearable, “What? Why would you even bring him up?”

Amelie chuckled and coiled a finger around the ends of her ponytail, “Just curious. He’s the biggest name at your university besides Jack, thought you might know him.”

“I don’t,” you practically snapped, like a cornered dog, “I’m sorry.”

Your own reaction stunned you once you directed the rude reply at Amelie. You had only met her just a bit ago and were projecting whatever conflicting feelings you had about Gabriel Reyes onto her. It was embarrassing. You didn’t dare look at either of the girls as you excused yourself back into the party.

It had grown louder since you first arrived. Something had changed the mood, everyone was jumping energetically to the music with alcohol in hand. You tried to make your way to something familiar, but you were lost in the sea of people. Navigating through the house seemed impossible, but you managed to stumble your way into the kitchen, holding an empty red cup close to your chest.

“Hey,” you heard a familiar voice faintly next to you. Turning your head, you noticed Olivia trying to get your attention, “You’re Angela’s friend, right?”

You nodded. She smiled, “You’re not with her?”

You just shook your head. Olivia offered you her hand, “Wanna chill?”

The two of you made you way through the crowd and up the stairs. Most of the party was below you now and Olivia took you into what you presumed to be an office of some sort. There was a computer desk across from a leather couch, occupied by a rugged man dressed as a cowboy and none other than Jack Morrison dressed as…himself, presumably.

“What in hell took you so long?” the cowboy spoke with a deep southern accent, “I was nearly about to blow my damn brains out.”

“Shut it, hillbilly,” Jack retorted, “don’t you see Olivia brought a guest.”

The sound of his voice was jarring but you followed Olivia into the room and sat among the men.

“Certainly, and what a lovely lady you are,” the cowboy extended his hand and you placed one on top of his. To your surprised, he rose your hand to his lips and gave a gentle kiss, “Name’s Cassidy.”

You blushed, unsure what to make of the man or the situation unfolding before you, “Nice to meet you.”

The door crashed open, Ana stood in the frame and raised a six-pack of beer, “Hello, old friends,” she smiled at you, “and a plus one! Perfect, a beer for each of us!”

You counted five people, including yourself. Ana handed you a beer and you held it against your chest, unsure of when or where your red cup had been discarded.

“Where the man of the hour?” Jack asked, opening his beer.

“He’ll be here shortly,” Ana turned to you, “do you need help opening that?”

“Oh, sure,” you shyly replied, not really wanting anymore to drink but perhaps if you just wet your lips…

“Don’t tell me your drinking without me,” you heard a voice speak from the open door. You froze.

“Well, shit,” Cassidy chuckled, “get yer ass in here, Reyes, I’m workin’ up a thirst sittin’ next to this jackass.”

Fuck. You wanted to jump up and run away into Angela’s arms. But something kept you in place, staring down at the beer in your hand. Your costume was beginning to feel all too revealing in front of the man you had been trying to avoid for weeks.

“Here, you can have my seat,” Olivia spoke, sitting up from next to you.

“What a doll,” with all of his weight, he plopped down next to you, making you jump.

You looked away, thumb playing with the lip of the beer bottle and eyes fixed at the hallway outside. Even when you weren’t looking at him, you could feel him staring into you.

“Yo,” he snapped a finger at you and you turned towards the sound. You couldn’t believe your eyes at first. He had really outdone himself, face painting like that of a skeleton. The hollows of his cheeks were black, same for the rest of the areas not painted white. You stared at him like a deer in headlights, “what the hell is a prude like you doing here?”

You blushed and took a breath. Before you could reply, Cassidy spoke up for you, “Shit, if she’s a prude wearing that little number, I’d like to see what the less modest ladies are wearing.”

He and Gabriel shared a hearty laugh and Ana rolled her eyes, “Now that you’re here, Gabe,” she started, “let’s have a little toast.”

Jack rose up, holding his beer out in the air, “To good company,” he looked down as Cassidy, who was beginning to light a smoke, “on second thought, to debauchery.”

Gabe laughed, shaking the couch, “That’s something I can drink to.”

And with that, everyone took a drink from their beer. You took a small sip while Gabe downed half of his in one go. It felt wrong, sitting next to him here and enjoying a beer as if nothing had happened between the two of you. And Cassidy’s comments weren’t helping you feel any more comfortable with the situation.

“Thank you for letting me drink with you guys,” you spoke shyly, “but I should really get back to Angela and see if she’s okay.”

Before you could move, Gabe put his arm around your shoulders and kept you in place with a strong grip. Your eyes met his and you couldn’t hide your anxiety any longer. He could undoubtably see what he was doing to you, a smile growing on his face, “Don’t be rude. Finish your drink.”

“Wait a minute, Gabe,” Jack interrupted, “you said you were going to find Angela?”

You nodded. Jack might be your saving grace yet.

“Let’s go. I’ve been meaning to find her all night,” Jack said, lifting himself from his seat.

“Fine,” Gabe relented, “I’ll go with you.”

“Looks like it’s just the three of us, ladies,” Cassidy sent Ana a sultry smile, to which she responded with a slap to the back of his head.

Jack began out the door, motioning with his hand for you to join, you and Gabe followed him to the party downstairs. The party was still going hard, it seemed, as the floor shook with the feet of the dancing partygoers. You searched for any sight of Angela’s blonde hair or her witch hat. It didn’t seem like she had returned to the party.

“Where did you leave her?” Jack asked, almost screaming to cut through the noise of music and guests.

“We were outside,” you explain, matching his volume, “come on, I’ll show you.”

“Fine,” he said, lowering his voice. You made your way through the party guests and opened a sliding glass door that led to the backyard. Sure enough, there was Amelie leaning against the wall and scrolling through her phone.

Before you could ask her where Angela went, Gabe greeted her, “Wow, Amelie, you’re really enjoying this party, huh?”

She put her phone in a clutch bag and turned her attention to your company, “Well, I was wondering when you would show up. Looks like you found yourself a little pet, too.”

You blushed when she smiled at you, you were really regretting going along with this costume. You cleared your throat, trying to get back on topic, “Do you know where Angela went?”

Gabe tugged lightly at the leash dangling from your collar and you looked up at him, “Don’t you know it’s rude to interrupt adults when they’re speaking?”

Amelie laughed and you slapped his hand. Jack was growing ever impatient and spoke, “I didn’t come to this party to watch your fucking foreplay. Where’s Angela?”

“Her and Genji went to the basement,” Amelie replied, “with his brother or something. Probably playing pool. Might be caught up in some other things, though…”

When her voice trailed off, Jack made a bee line into the house and disappeared into the party. You started to follow him before Gabe pulled you back.

“What’re you doing?” you asked, frustration obvious in your voice and he seemed all too amused to hear it.

“You’ve been drinking like a damn sailor,” he said, “I can smell it when you talk.”

“Oh, please, Gabe,” Amelie chimed in, “cut her a break. Heaven knows the last time you’ve had this much fun, right?”

You weren’t sure if she was referring to you or Gabe but whatever fun you had at the start of the evening was beginning to fade fast.

“I just want to find Angela and go home,” you confessed, “it’s getting late.”

“You know she’s been waiting for Jack all night, there’s no way she intends to go home just yet,” Amelie reminded you, walking towards you and Gabe. She put a hand on your shoulder and said, “I suggest you make the most of your time here.”

“I’m just going to follow Jack, then,” you said, hoping they would let you go, but you should’ve known better.

“She really is rude, you know,” Amelie said, patting your shoulder before making her leave. When she opened the door, she turned to chide you again before leaving, “Be a good girl, now.”

You looked up at Gabe, that same feeling in your stomach you felt in the locker room came back again and you were suddenly reminded of what you had been hoping to avoid. How could you feel so alone and vulnerable in a house full of people? It didn’t make much sense, but your heart raced and you hushed the urge to cry. His face was concealed through the paint, even the line of his lips was difficult to make out. Still, he stared down at you with his hand still holding your arm. Your face burned hot again knowing how tight your costume was against your body, it was suffocating when his eyes trailed downward.

“Cassidy was right,” he began, “for a prude, you’re really dressed like a slut.”

You tried to wiggled you arm away from him, but he tightened his grip. Annoyed and anxious, you spoke, “Stop it, Gabe. I don’t want anything to do with you, and if you don’t like me so much then maybe we should just leave each other alone.”

His eyes met yours, rich ebony that bended against the outline of his pupils. They kept you frozen in place, like the stilling darkness of a bottomless abyss. No light reflected through them.

“And yet here you are,” he said after a brief pause, “Little miss perfect, drunk, at a party, dressed like she’s looking for a good fuck that’ll leave her senseless. What a sight you are.”

“Shut up!” your voice cracked and your words couldn’t reach the volume you had hope, “I didn’t even want to dress up like this, Angela picked it out for me. We’re matching! She’s a fucking witch and I’m her cat familiar, asshole!”

“Jesus Christ,” he rubbed his temples, “you’re such a fucking dork, you know that? Can’t believe I-“

He paused suddenly and looked down at you again, eyes trailing down your body. His stare perverse and he licked his lips in sick anticipation like a hungry wolf, “What am I saying…look at you. If only you’d shut that pretty mouth of yours, you might be the finest piece of ass I’ve ever seen. Hell, you even give some good head.”

“What the hell?!” you spoke up in an attempt to stop any discussion of what had happened in the locker room, “You’re sick, for real. There’s something actually wrong with you!”

He chuckled, “Come on, don’t tell me you didn’t enjoy yourself. Poor thing, you never did get off. Maybe we should finish what we started…”

You crossed your arms in defiance and tightened your jaw in an effort to conceal your frustration. Truthfully, you wanted to slap him in the face for being such an insulting, patronizing, annoying creep. But you didn’t want the confrontation. You didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of ruining your night.

“You’re nothing but trouble, Gabe,” you huffed, “maybe you should stop following me around like a puppy and just pretend like nothing ever happened because I am not at all interested in playing your sick little games.”

He clenched his jaw and turned away from you, a sly smile growing on his face. The muscles in his arms flexed through his hoodie, clearly what you had said cut through him. You didn’t regret it, what you said was true. He’s bad news.

Gabe turned to catch a glimpse of you. In that moment, you thought you could see right through him, piercing through whatever barrier that concealed his true nature from everyone that know him but you. He liked to play with your emotions, to dwindle down your strength and take control of the situation. But now the tables had been turned in your favor. It had stunned you, to think you could disarm him like this. And the atmosphere was tense, silent and still for a while.

It wasn’t long after that he regain his composure, straightening his posture and bridging the gap between the two of you, “What do you want, huh? Want some desperate boy to feed your fucking ego? Always talking about how I don’t like you, like you want me kiss your ass and tell you whatever bullshit you want to hear, is that it?”

He laughed and his chest rose heavily. Staring up at him, you remained aloof, “I thought we were friends once, Gabe. Then you changed your tone quick. You’re mean, actually, you’re cruel.”

His arms suddenly gripped onto yours and he forced you to back up against the wall with nothing more than a squeal of defiance from you. He moved a hand from your arm to hold your face, smearing whatever black makeup that it touched. You felt that same paralyzing fear you had felt before. He crashed his lips against yours and you denied him any sort of entrance to your tongue. This didn’t satisfy him, his hand went to grip your throat and the tight squeeze caused you to open your mouth in an attempt to breath. He took the opportunity to lace his tongue between yours, and a tear rolled down your cheek. It was sickeningly intimate, like the reunion of two passionate lovers. And you were anything but.

Your hands wrapped around his wrist, pulling and tugging to release their grip but it was futile. He didn’t move a muscle as he continued to assault your tongue with his own, both your lips wetting with each other’s saliva. It disgusted you. But why did you hips stutter when he sucked on your tongue and why did your fingers squeeze around his wrist in reaction to the burning feeling in your core? Why did he have to be so perverse, so debauched in his thoughts of you yet still lure you in with his hoarse voice and beautiful visage. It was as if he were the devil himself and you a victim of temptation.

When he pulled away from you, it was sudden. A string of spit connected the two of you for a moment, breaking once Gabe stood at full height. He towered over you, a shadow of a man eclipsing the moon. You wiped your mouth, surely smudging your makeup and drawn whiskers while doing so.

“What a waste of time,” Gabe spoke, “trying to talk sense into is like talking to a wall. Just as dull, too.”

“You’re vulgar,” you spat through heavy breaths.

“You’re in denial,” he scoffed, wiping his lips with a swipe of his thumb.

“You ruined my makeup,” you almost shouted.

“Yeah?” he chuckled, “Wouldn’t mind ruining the rest of you while we’re at it.”

“Gabe,” you felt him staring intently at you like a bloodhound, “let’s just go back to the party.”

He looked up at you from whatever part of your body caught his attention, “Fine, you caught me in a good mood tonight. Just know I’m not finished with you yet, princesa.”

He brought a tender hand to you cheek and rubbed it endearingly, sending you a wink as he walked towards the sliding glass doors that lead inside. His sudden gentleness reddened your cheeks and you walked beside him into the party, trying to find some sort of sanctuary in the arms of Angela or perhaps an unoccupied bathroom. Whatever presented itself to you first. Before you could bid farewell to Gabe, he had already left you, somewhere among the crowded house. A part of you was relieved but another unsure what to make of his sudden disappearance. It was a tendency of his to come and go as he pleased and take whatever it was he desired from you while doing so. You felt vulnerable, even when you sent curses his way it barely seemed to make any difference. He was going to take what he wanted from you and you were powerless in your efforts to stop him.

#yandere #yandere overwatch #yandere!overwatch #dark overwatch #dark!overwatch #yandere mccree #yandere reaper #gabriel reyes #tw: noncon #yandere au #college au #dark gabriel reyes #yandere gabriel reyes #dark!gabriel reyes #yandere!gabriel reyes #gabriel reyes x reader #reaper x reader

[flbrokensoldier]

New Anon here! I'll call myself 'Mei Mei' so you'll know when I'll request next time that it's me! So! Let's go! I have a request, (there's blood!) Reaper x male!reader (I don't see those a lot) imagine Reader got seriously hurt but they don't want to tell reaper so he goes back to his room and falls asleep obviously still bleeding (imagine it's a huge gash on the stomach or something)

so Reaper Comes back from another mission and seeing his friend not greeting him back puts him off so he goes to his room to see if he's ok, after knocking he goes in and sees reader supposedly sleeping (the blanket is covering him) he goes to see if he's ok then sees dark red spots on the floor so he rips off the blanket

Friends to lovers?

Plz angst then fluff ending

:D ignore it if it makes you uncomfortable :)) I'll swing by again

Yes! I can do that! Seeing as the character was changed to Cassidy/McCree;

I have no problem with it! ^^ (Again sorry about the no reaper thing :c)

This took me a whole minute to write because I did try to add every element as requested so sorry about the wait!

Note there is a slight pov change after the time skip!

Cole Cassidy x Male Reader (could also be GN)

Just A Flesh Wound

You had probably known Cassidy for a good few years but never really bothered to get to know him. That is until recently. After a good few months you realized that there was a lot more about this unusual cowboy. Cassidy usually just remained in the background, at least to you. Cole had said things here and there but you just put him on the back burner. However, upon getting to know him recently you realized that he wasn't so bad and actually was rather outspoken, you just hadn't noticed before. He was really sweet, very caring and also very goofy. The random jokes that fell out of his mouth or snarky comments he'd give to others made you chuckle which only fueled Cassidy's flame.

However, you still couldn't bring yourself to tell him how you really felt around him. It was so bad to the point of distance, you wanted to put a small but of distance between you two so you didn't "burden him with your emotions," as you told one of your other close friends in Overwatch, Lena or Tracer if you will. You tried to make it as unnoticeable as possible but this cowboy was too slick. He caught on quickly and decided if you wanted the space, he would give it. Yet, it made him feel awful. He wanted to be near you as much as you did, but he knew something was up so he didn't bother trying to push.

Currently though, you had come back from a rather tough mission with a big gash on your stomach that had slowed bleeding by now yes, but it was an awful wound that just wouldn't let up. You decided upon seeing the others that your wound could wait, Angela had others to take care of. You concluded that for now, you would just go sleep and rest while keeping as still as possible so you didn't reopen the wound. That didn't work out though.

As soon as you hit the blankets, a nice feeling of ecstasy washed over you. Damn was it comfortable, so you got under the covers and relaxed. Pretty soon that relaxation was so deep you didn't realize the red color tainting your comfy blankets.

⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚　˚୨୧⋆｡˚ ⋆

He had stood right behind the door, trying to convince himself to just knock. Truth was, he was super worried about you so he decided today of all days, he could come to check on you to see how you were holding up.

"Damnit Cole, just knock." He muttered to himself as his hand reached up and knocked.

After he got no answer, he spun around and went to walk away when he saw the blood trail leading up to your room on the floor. Now he was worried so he tried one more knock, mostly out of worry and not wanting to barge in.

Nothing.

Thats when he tried the door knob. Turning it slowly, he realized it was unlocked much to his surprise. He stepped in through the doorway, his spurs singing a soft melody as he walked in. When he was in the room, he followed the blood trail right up to your bed. He stared in shock as he saw the blood seeping into the blanket. Panic set in as he uncovered you from your blankets and he inspected the wound. Upon looking at it he decided you were going to see Angela one way or another.

He picked you up, bridal style and carried you out quickly. Upon seeing your eyes flutter open weakly, he felt a slight wave of relief wash over him.

"What's going on?" You ask, the pain straining your voice.

"I'm takin' you to see Angela. Yer wound needs tendin' to." He spoke firmly.

"Cole I'm fi-" You got cut off.

"No you're not." His brows knit into a worried expression.

You had fallen silent for a moment before speaking. "How did you get in anyways?"

"Yer door was unlocked."

"Oh."

"Mhm."

You looked ahead, you both weren't far from her office now. Your arms instinctively wrapped around your stomach out of discomfort and pain. Your vision was slightly fuzzy too from the blood loss, maybe sleeping wasn't a good idea. Suddenly it was starting to all fade away into darkness.

"Hang in there bud." Cole's voice snapped you from the darkness trying to engulf you.

You remained silent, until you were right outside her office. "Cole, I'm sorry for avoiding you.." You started.

"Now now, don't go gettin' sappy with me." His tone was worried but he knew you wouldn't die, not from this at least.

"I know but I have to say sorry and.." You hesitated. "I avoided you because I like you."

He looked stunned but he walked inside Angela's office. "Real bad time to say yer feelings but.." He looked around. "I like you too bud. Now let's get you patched up." He said with his worried expression never fading.

Angela soon walked up and she instructed Cassidy to put you on one of the beds before she started to work on you. You looked at Cassidy before falling into a sleep so you could be stitched up. You held your hand out, a pathetic expression from the pain.

He took it quickly and held your hand firmly. He flashed you a worried smile and gently squeezing your hand. You flashed him a pained smile back before the darkness consumed you. However, it wasn't a bad thing. You knew you'd be okay and have to wake up to a lot of explaining to Cassidy.

(Again thank you for requesting! I hope this is what you wanted!)

#x reader oneshot #cole cassidy #cole cassidy x reader #mccree #mccree x reader #x you #<3333 #please enjoy #oneshot

[mercedesfiction]

My brain: “We have a beautiful and fun Halloween fic idea!”

Me: “No way, we have way too many other fics to be working on, and we wrapped up our Halloween fic last year…”

My brain: “But it’s our magic creative hour of 2 AM! We must see what comes from it!”

Me: *Writes 1,000-word intro for a new Halloween fic.* “What have I done… and why would we start a project like this only a week til Halloween?!”

In case I don’t finish it in time or don’t come up with any more to add this year, here’s a fun little intro teaser to a random Halloween fic that I apparently just had to write out xD

If and when I do finish it, I'll be sure to add a link at the bottom :D

(EDIT: I did! Chapters 3 & 4 are this fic on the link. Happy Halloween!)

Witch Entertainment

(Jesse McCree x Female Reader 18+)

The chill autumn breeze blows through you in your Overwatch hoodie, jeans, and boots. You shiver at its presence, giving you goosebumps over your skin as your hoodie with a long sleeve underneath does little to defend against the colder evening air. You stay huddled up next to your boyfriend as the heels on both your boots and his, click on the stone pathway leading to a large stone castle. Along with the crunch of stepping on fall leaves every so often. Illuminated by lanterns along the path and candle-lit Jack’o lanterns. The sounds of bats overhead and an owl somewhere off in the trees along your path.

“Ya hangin’ in there?” Your boyfriend says with his smooth Southern drawl. His cowboy hat barely moves to the wind as it lightly blows now and then. His spurs jingle loudly and echo off the cobblestone path. He seems a lot more unfazed by the chilly breeze with his denim jacket and jeans. A plain black tee tucked in to show his “BAMF” belt buckle and holster on his hip. His iconic Peacekeeper revolver sits snuggly inside it, with the breeze spinning the spur on its handle now and then.

You slowly nod and try to control your shivering. “Yea…” You speak softly. “Sure is colder here than at the base…”

Jesse lightly chuckles, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight against him. “Yea, sorry bout that.” He smiles, kissing your head. “I don’t think it should be as cold the rest of the time we’re here…” His tone is soft as you continue to walk.

‘Where is here?’ That is what you wanted to ask. Not knowing how exactly you got here, to begin with. Jesse mentioned it was a surprise and has been very vague on any details.

You try to process your day so far up until now. Remember being at Watchpoint Gibraltar in the early afternoon during a light rainstorm and Jesse telling you that we would leave for a couple of days and leading you to the med bay. A secret room in the med bay housing a teleporter that you hadn’t seen before and suddenly you’re teleported here, outside, and at night.

A forest area that seems secluded with a stone castle in the distance that appears like it would fit in well at Eichenwalde. Jesse had sprung this last-minute “trip” after you had mentioned how it was odd that you hadn’t felt the Halloween spirit yet this year. Especially with the holiday fast approaching and even decorating your quarters with Halloween decorations and lights. Making it cozy and matching the season perfectly, but the rest of the base lacks any celebration this year or decor.

“We’re almost there…” Jesse’s tone remains soft as he still holds you close. Sharing his body heat with you as you draw nearer to the castle.

You glance around more at your environment, barely seeing past the lanterns lighting the pathway, making the surrounding trees and forest dark and shadowy. “This place is a little spooky…” You speak softly while looking around.

“Ya ain’t scared,... Are ya?” Jesse grins.

You give him a gentle smile. “Not with you here.”

“Good answer.” He whispers, kissing your cheek softly.

You both finally reach the castle, approaching its large wooden doors with metal ring handles and door knockers. You give Jesse an unsure look while examining the large structure and its entrance. “Well after you…” He gestures to the door with a soft smile.

You swallow before slowly grabbing the cold metal ring of one of the knockers. Its weight becomes apparent as you move and lift it away from the door. The stiff metal ring moves with a grind before you drop it back against the door, knocking loudly.

You and Jesse stand in the cold breeze for a moment longer without words or movements, before one of the doors slowly opens with a chilling creaking sound. You keep an unsure look on your face as you glance at Jesse as he gestures to you to go ahead.

You slowly walk inside with Jesse right behind you. Leaning on and closing the heavy wooden door, silencing the wind from outside. You notice the temperature change when entering the castle, feeling much warmer with being enclosed and out of the wind.

The foyer of the castle is lined with candles and candelabras, keeping the space well-lit. Jesse causes your body to tense for a moment when he suddenly grabs your hand and slowly leads you down the hall into the main part of the castle.

You come to a sort of sitting room or living room with large windows looking out into the surrounding night forest. The interior of the room is warm and cozy and filled with witchy decorations and magical potions. Vintage furniture such as sofas and a couple of chairs along with wooden end tables and a coffee table. Centered around a lit fireplace, giving the space an added warmth.

Jesse leads you to sit on the couch, a soft velvet-like texture that’s warm from the fire. He removes his jacket and places it over your shoulders, giving you his heat for your hoodie to absorb. “Alright…” Jesse speaks quietly with a smile, kneeling in front of you. “Close yer eyes, Pumpkin.”

You hesitate for only a brief moment before slowly closing your eyes. The warmth relaxes you in the foreign space. You keep your eyes closed, listening to the crackling of the fire but not hearing any other sounds besides that, making you a little nervous but still calm with it being peaceful.

Your body tensed again at the feeling of a gloved hand gently grabbing and lifting your chin. You keep your eyes closed but notice a new aroma of different herbs and spices. Like hints of vanilla and pumpkin.

“Did someone call for a Witch?” The familiar female voice with a Swiss-German accent grabs your attention, making you open your eyes.

Your eyes widen with surprise with you seeing Witch Mercy leaning down to face you while holding your chin to look at her.

Continue on Chapter 3:

#jesse mccree #fanfic #overwatch #fanfiction #female reader #mccree #reader insert #fanfiction writer #writing #smut #halloween #witch mercy

[your-fave-is-crippled]

Jesse McCree from Overwatch

has a prosthetic hand!

image one: [id: a flag with a grey border around 7 vertical stripes ranging from left to right as dark green, seafoam green, moss green, light green, pale pink, orange-red and red. on top of the flag is jesse from overwatch in the middle of the image with a gun held up in his right hand, his left on his hip under his scarf and a cigar hanging out of his mouth. :end id]

image two: [id: a banner with a blue to green gradient and water-filtering-light texture under a faintly transparent blue rectangular box. in the box is light blue text that reads "Blog is about disability, disabled characters and headcanons. may include occasional pd rep but otherwise do not derail. blocking where i see fir for my comfort, please remain respectful." on the top of the banner outside the blue box is more light blue text that reads "DNI if proship, terf, are a discourse blog and other basic dni stuff" in all caps. under the blue box at the bottom of the banner is more light blue text that reads "cripplepunk is for the physically disabled only" in all caps. on either side of the banner is an image of ryn from the show siren staring off to the side. :end id]

#jesse mccree #jesse ow #ow jesse #jesse overwatch #mccree #mccree ow #mccree overwatch #overwatch mccree #overwatch #ow mccree #overwatch jesse #prosthetic arm #your fave has prosthetic arms/hands #prosthetic hand #prosthetics #your fave uses prosthetics #your fave has prosthetic limbs

[doomatnight]

How about 3 other dark skinned Overwatch gals; Sojourn, Symmetra and a more recent addition Illari, all getting bleached by Jack? (or McCree, or Roadhog if you think they fit better?)

Content: Raceplay, Size Difference, Musk, Harem, Cock Worship

It was another peaceful day in Junkertown. The sun was scorching, the metal was rattling and clanking, and Roadhog had three sluts worshiping his cock.

Sojourn, former Overwatch officer and right hand woman to Soldier 76. Pride of Canada. Now mindlessly sucking on one of Roadhog’s big white balls.

Symmetra, a proud Indian scientist that had made bounds and leaps in light projection technology. She was also busy sucking on Roadhog’s big white juicy balls.

And finally Ilari, the last Sun Warrior, rumored to be the reincarnation of a Goddess. Truthfully she was just the third Bleached slut sucking on Roadhog’s massive white cock. All three of them taking in his superior musk and taste.

#doomlewd.txt #smut #smut headcanons #smut hcs #overwatch smut #nsft / #raceplay /

[swampgallows]

okay as painful as it is to feel stupid and vulnerable im just gonna post

i really want dragonstomp to happen. ive poured dozens of hours into trying to make it happen already, between fireworks and making the flyer and trying to figure out my set and listening literally hundreds of records trying to find new tracks to play and i feel like it's all for naught. there is no worse imaginable feeling in the world to me than throwing a party and having nobody come. it's the ultimate coalescence of being ghosted/abandoned/ignored, failing at something, and being disliked. like you put all this work into something where the objective is just for people to have fun, and they would rather do something else than have fun with you. throwing a party and having it suck is one thing, but having nobody come at all is its own self-contained punishment.

i used to be a very vibrant part of two different communities and now i feel utterly abandoned by both. it's like im "trying to make fetch happen" and everyone is just humoring me. it's been like pulling teeth to get djs because they've all gone back to irl events, which i can't attend because im miss chicken little glass bones and paper skin worwied about a widdle viwus that everyone else "lives with". so here i am alone in my shitty little cloister bedroom trying to at least simulate having fun in a virtual world, which feels beyond pathetic, ESPECIALLY because said virtual world feels vacant of all the people who previously were so passionate about it. dragonflight has been a great expansion but after the legitimate trauma of the last few years it feels like lukewarm water on a burn; the most anyone can feel about it is "lukewarm" because the wounds are so fresh. people are still reeling over sylvanas, afrasiabi, mccree, and blitzchung even still. i feel like it should be a time to celebrate, but so many people have just ditched it for good and moved on. or ive been mean to them or they've been mean to me or they've been mean and shitty and negative in general so ive become splintered off from a ton of people. i don't blame them for not wanting to deal with me but im reaping what ive sown i guess. i don't even want to do the party for me, it's not like it's my birthday, i just want to have an rp event that i actually want to attend. something that isn't "let's pretend to get drunk and then erp in whispers" for 5 hours. since the lore is so fucked anyway i can't imagine an rp rave is that much far off from anything else in game. yeah it's no bonfire bash, but im doing it all myself so this is as good as i can do.

then im at my tables trying to practice, thinking about how ive spent thousands on djing over the years only to have all these records i fucking suck at playing. i didn't even get speakers until like a year ago so ive been djing with a handicap this whole time because i didnt have monitors. and now that i have them, i can't even use them because im such a loser that i still live with my parents, one of which literally doesn't leave the house, so i don't have any time to play from my speakers. everyone in this house gets to use their instrument except me. so i simply don't use it. as a result, i suck at djing. i COULD just spin for the entire night to make up for the 3-4 DJ slots im missing, but that feels completely pathetic too.

on top of everything im really struggling to draw for the flyer because i don't draw anymore (for a lot of the same reasons) and thinking about just what a waste my life is. i got a degree in this shit and i can't even do it right.

im reminded of my therapist agreeing that ive outgrown all this stuff is the main thing; either ive diverged from it or it's gone somewhere i can't follow. all of that is morally neutral. the problem i guess is that i have nothing to move on to, no bigger shell to grow into, so im hermiting in the ones that are cracked and splintered and no longer fit. and when i leave them im adrift, middle of the sea, nothing but darkness in any direction, completely exposed. and i have been drifting a long, long, long time. still there is darkness. still there is no direction.

i didn't want to post anything about this because i know it's shooting myself in the foot and looks like pandering and now itll taint the spirit of the event. but at the same time it already feels tainted, like im struggling to get anybody to care and people only do because they feel bad for me, not because they're actually excited. every single thing i do it feels like im forcing people to come with me or that they just ambivalently tag along. it's like nobody is ever excited about the same things i am. i dont know how to get excited about what everyone else likes. i don't know if it's all in my head or what. all i ever am is in my head because i spend my entire fucking life alone in my bed.

#blathering

[sheep-and-lykos]

hii~ im so happy you're back at writing!! for a halloween ask, can you do something with a vampire!reader and mccree? something very angsty like reader hasn't fed in a long time and attacks jesse?

Braced against the wall you clawed at your bleeding back. Searing pain tore through your muscles. It felt like you were being ripped apart at your flank, like someone had jammed their hands in your open wound and was trying to split you open. Your vision swayed violently, your eyes felt like they were burning and tears trickled down your face.

You swallowed thickly. It felt like you had something lodged in your throat. It felt like you had swallowed the thickest molasses ever made on the planet, it coated your insides and made you feel horribly nauseous. You cried out in agony, knees buckling under your weight as you collapsed to the metal ground. Blood started to drip down from your ruined uniform, splattering beneath you. Your blood was thick and dark, almost black against the worn steel flooring.

Every move you made only made it feel worse. You could feel the venom coursing in your veins. You don't know how long you had before your mind snapped, but it couldn't be long now. The corners of your vision were dark, every noise rang out in your ears like it was Morrison himself booming into a megaphone. The contents of your stomach boiled making your blood feel ice cold.

A familiar scent smacked you across the face. It made you horrified, the blood draining from your face probably to the open wound in your flank. It felt like someone was driving a stake through your unbeaten heart.

You stumbled to stand up, clawing at the walls as you cried out in agony. You watched in horror as the veins in your hands ran dark, the color creeping up the backs of your hands and along your fingers. You didn't have much longer.

The scent of tobacco and whiskey was pungent, sitting heavy in the back of your throat. He was getting closer. The sounds of his jingling spurs as he raced through the halls was booming in your ears.

"(Y/n)!" he called. You winced horribly and nearly buckled again as how his voice rattled around your head. "(Y/n), where are ya?"

You heard him stop down the hall. You felt disgusted to have his eyes on you. He hesitated, eyeing the large wound you were sporting. He knew something was horribly wrong just from looking at you.

"Get away," you weakly cried. "Get away from me."

"(Y/n)-"

"I said get away!"

You turned to glare over your shoulder and he froze under your intense gaze. Your eyes were bright and full of a concoction of emotions he's never seen you wear before. He could sense the fear and pain radiating off of you in waves, it made his heart ache with how you trembled and struggled to stand.

He weighed his options quickly. You already hadn't fed before this mission, but now here you stood bleeding and probably poisoned. He could see the humanity slipping from your eyes, he could see the fangs sitting sharp in your mouth. He peered down the hall to the Talon bodies that were already dead when he came, most likely dead by your hand. There were more Talon agents crawling around, it was only a matter of time before they found you both. He couldn't let them get to you.

He started down the hallway to you. Peacekeepers sat horribly heavy in her holster, taunting him with such horrible ideas he would never act on.

You panicked, clawing the wall as you tried to put more distance between you and him only to collapse once again on the floor.

"No-"

"I ain't lettin' em get ya," Jesse grit his teeth.

You cried out in agony when you felt his hands snatched at your body, wailed when he lifted you up from the dirty floor. You tried to fight against him, clawing at his metal arm that wrapped around your chest and dragged you through the winding halls. Your vision had started to go dark, your mind fading in and out of consciousness as you fought weakly against your lover.

He eventually came to a room where he tuck you both inside, closing the door and locking it. He braced you against an abandoned desk before he dug around in his pocket for his communicator. He cursed to himself and turned his back to you as he fiddled with the damn piece of technology.

Something inside of you had snapped, like a switch had been flipped in the other direction. Your mind went blank as you stood up like you had been possessed by something.

Whatever chemical they had shot you with finally took over.

Jesse stepped pressing buttons just as you lunged at him. He barked out a gasp as you pinned him against the door. He elbowed you in the throat and pushed you away just enough to turn and face you before you pinned him again. He brought up his metal arm just in time for your fangs to sink into the metal plating, tearing it back and causing it to spark.

"Get a grip!" He shouted as you reeled back. Your eyes were feral, like a rabid wolf, rimmed red and pupils blown wide against red eyes. "(Y/n)! Get a hold of yerself!"

#jesse mccree #mccree x reader #mccree #cassidy x reader #cole cassidy #overwatch imagines