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luckyshotwrites · 1 year

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Ch. 55 // Honey, You’ve Got A Big Storm Comin’! Part 1 // Day 45

Contents (Warnings): Lynette finally meets with her family at last, and sisters husband. (REDACTED for the surprise). @nebbynebbu (FOR GIVING ME THIS BANGER TITLE!!)

Wordcount: 2.000+ (Because I'm funny, I decided to cut this chapter short in favor of chaos).

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(Nov. 5th, Saturday)

I couldn't stop staring at the wet mark near the neck of his light gray t-shirt.

"I'm sorry." I apologized. "I didn't think I'd drool that much." I feel so bad. I forgot I get tired on planes.

Wicks chuckled, "that's fine. It's more material to complain to mom about."

"No!" We pulled our luggage off the rotating conveyor belt. "I know how you'd spit-" I fumbled my words, "spin it!"

"Uh-huh." He continued to giggle as he answered his ringing phone.

I felt a tightness under my ribs. We swerved our luggage through the small crowds and made it outside one of the automatic double doors. It was a small airport, so there were few cars to search over. Our luggage jumped with each bump.

Wicks pointed at the sleek, black SUV ahead as a woman leaped out of the passenger-side door.

She shouted with enough vigor to capture the attention of everyone else nearby, "LYNNNNN, WIIIICCCKKKS!!"

A bunch of heel clicks followed by her worn accent and a giant smile that I couldn't help but replicate.

She immediately wrapped around Wicks and me. She kissed the top of my head and Wicks's cheek because she was between our heights.

"Mis queridos hijos!!!" She exclaimed. "You made it here safe!"

"We did," I said, securely clutching her back. Wicks threw his arm over me and got Madre too.

"We're golden, mom," Wicks said.

She pulled back and started fanning her eyes once the water shimmered in them. "No te he visto en tanto tiempo."

I gathered what I could, "not that long."

Wicks nodded with a chuckle, "only three months."

"Three months too long, " Padre walked over. He rubbed Madre's shoulder. "She was crying the whole way here." He teased and tapped her upper cheek near her eye, "you can see it from the run of her make-up here."

She touched near them where he did, "don't embarrass me, Stefan!"

He leaned forward and kissed her cheek. She popped at the sudden peck, and he smiled, walking to us. "I was kidding, mi amor.~" Even with his sweet serenade, he always had a hint of tiredness or short breath.

He approached us and gave a similar loving rub to Wicks's shoulder, then smiled and bent down to hug me tight. I murmured at the chill of the mechanical left arm at my back through my flowery sundress.

"Hey, Lyn." He whistled with care.

My voice twanged when I said, "Hey, padre."

He let go and turned around with a soft snicker. He grabbed the handle of my suitcase and rolled it. "I see Wicks didn't let you dress with your flare?"

"You should have seen what she picked!" Wicks exclaimed with a grin. Padre tried to grab his luggage too. Wicks refused and held firm.

"Lyn, te amo pero..." Madre sighed as she threw an arm over my shoulder. Her peach perfume tickled my nose. "You don't dress very well on your own."

"I pick what I love to wear!"

"And I love that passion. You've got the mindset of one of those-" Padre snapped his fingers a few times, "what are they called? They dress up, and people follow their style?"

"Trendless?" Wicks joked while we followed them to the car.

My mouth hung open with an offended countenance.

"Wicks, Sé amable con Lynette!"

"Mamá, solo estoy bromeando," he replied. He gave her an poor smolder expression where he wiggled his brows. It cracked us both up and made me mimic it.

Padre opened the trunk and then flicked back after putting my suitcase away. "TREND SETTER!" He looked proud of himself.

Wicks and Madre slumped and said in unison, "No."

...

Madre exploded with a million questions. She asked if we had eaten enough, how the trip was, whether we were getting along, our jobs, and many more. And she barely took a breath between them. She asked at a mile a minute. A mixture of Spanish and English, so my brain rattled. I looked at Wicks for help, and he struggled to answer them for us.

Meanwhile, Padre drove. He'd occasionally add a funny remark. Though, remained solemn. His smile was always subtle, accompanied by a distant look. Sometimes it looked like he was somewhere else entirely.

It was a subject I never wanted to ask. What happened to Padre's body, the scarred and mangled flesh of his left side. I've only ever heard him mention being caught in the backlash of an attack.

And Madre was different. The opposite of Padre. She spoke frequently, expressed every emotion vividly in her expression, and never missed an opportunity to lecture or feed us. In her eyes, anyone who walked into our house was her child.

The warmness of Padre's jokes and the care of Madre's worry held me. It took the weight that I bore on my shoulders.

Madre looked back at us again and gasped. "Cariño, ¿estás bien?" She put her hand to her mouth as she stared at me.

Wicks's hunched over in my direction. He was in the seat next to me, with a space between us for people to slip to the back. "Lentils."

I thought my vision had gotten blurry. I lifted my hands up and rubbed my eyes. Once I pressed on them, the wetness coated them and dribbled down my chin onto my dress.

Now that I knew, they poured from me. "I'm-" my lip quivered. "s-so-happy. I-I missed..."

"Niña," Madre unbuckled her seat belt. She ducked down and swayed to the long back seat that fits three. She tugged my arm to come back with her. I did so.

I sat beside her and rested near her chest, her arm wrapped around me. She held me close.

I peered ahead to see Wicks didn't look at us. His lip quivered, but he kept quiet. I even heard an apprehensive sigh from Padre upfront.

Then, I looked up at her face, feeling a light splash against my cheek. She cried too.

"We missed you too, Lyn." She whispered as her nails gently ran through my hair and over my head.

...

I feel so lost. It still doesn't feel real. Everything I've experienced at the pizzeria or outside of it felt like a long dream. It felt like a separate reality. It can't be real. The same thought hit me back when I started too. This time it felt robust with the comfort behind my family. Am I crazy? Maybe I went crazy? Monsters don't exist.

I said in my head. Madre continued to lull over me. A lot of old memories feel like bad dreams, don't they?

Madre shuffled, and I opened my eyes. I lifted my head up as I saw the black and golden trim gate. The whole property was walled off. I sat up and admired the landscaping and stone-paved driveway ahead of us.

"They really went all out, huh?" Wicks and I have a regular old apartment. Not that I couldn't afford more. I saved all the money I got so far. I wanted to spend it when I made it to the end of the year.

"He does spoil her," Padre said as the gate started to open, "that's supposed to be my job." He softly chuckled at the notion.

"He's charming, Lyn." Madre said, "you'll love him." She held a hand to her heart. "Seeing how happy he makes Charletta...~" She hummed.

"We made her happy, too," Padre commented and sighed. "He does seem to cherish her." The realization that Charletta had grown up seemed to hurt him.

Wicks scoffed, "he better, or Lentils and I are gonna kick some butt."

I threw my hand up, and he did his. We clasped them together in agreement. The car suddenly stopped with a jerk once he went about the fountain in the center and near the front door. I went forward, but Madre caught me.

"Stefan!"

"CHARLETTA!" Padre shouted outside his open window. "!¿ESTÁS LOCA, CHICA?!" He had a passion for his lack of accent.

She scurried from the front of the car to the passenger side door. She hoped in, her long wavy strands fluttered behind like a veil.

She sat back and giggled, "sorry! I ran out in excitement!"

I hadn't seen her come out of the front door.

She looked back with loving eyes that matched Padre's light hazel. "YOU GUYS MADE IT!"

The three of us cheered together, almost on command. After, Charletta whipped her finger up and pointed, "especially you, miss. I ONLY NEED A DAY." A nerdy voice came from her to mock me.

"H-hey! I told you, I used all my vacation days because of that "ducky's" place!" I saw Wick's smile slack, and the grimace I had been seeing for a month returned.

Charletta waved her arms around, "and now you got a MUCH better job that gives you all the vacation time!"

Better? I wouldn't say that.

I loosely smirked, "yeah."

We approached the side of their home and parked in their five-car garage.

There were two other cars inside. I figured one was Charletta's, and the other was his. We lowered our heads to make our way out. I went to help Madre, but Charletta looped her arm with mine, already having captured Wicks.

"Wa-" I tried to stop her, but Padre waved us along.

Charletta took us through the empty garage. "It might be a little messy, sorry. We were setting up the last of the furniture today." She warned as we got up the stairs into her home.

"Come on, you gotta meet him. His family just arrived too."

Wicks and I exchanged looks and got ready to body the man.

She stopped at the door rim. She looked between us and realized we wouldn't all fit.

Wicks snickered and went ahead of her so she could pull me behind.

"You're committed to the barrel of monkey chain," I said.

"I have to be with you two. You're both super nosy, and I know if I let you roam around, you'll get into something."

"Such little faith." Wicks snickered.

"LIKE YOU AND LYN HAVEN'T BEEN-" She pulled up her arms and constricted ours tighter.

"Ow," I muttered as I admired the halls. It was spacious but reasonable, unlike Drake's parents' home or Alexander's apartment. My eyes traced along the navy walls, different from the outside, which was all white with yellow lanterns.

She stopped once we reached what looked to be the kitchen on our left. It had another opening to what looked to be a living area with giant picture windows.

As soon as we got to the next doorway, through the stainless steel kitchen, a male peered around the corner.

He had an innocently handsome complexion. Almost out of surprise, he held both hands up and dropped them upon seeing Charletta. I could see the loving look in his violet-red hue and the vast sweetness behind her own.

They look happy. I thought to myself. I glanced at Wicks; he clearly thought the same.

"This is my little brother and sister, Wicks," she patted Wicks's head.

I stared more at her future husband. His pale skin and short jet-black hair, though simple traits, stuck out. Why does he look familiar? I questioned. He turned to me and tilted his head curiously, and I looked away. I have to stop staring at people!

"And this is Lynette." Charletta said, "were you sizing him up?" She raised her brow playfully. I felt to flustered to answer.

"Nice to meet you too, I'm-" a voice from around the corner interrupted him.

"LYNETTE?!"

I lurched forward at the sound. I only heard their shout one other time. I unlinked my arm from Charletta and passed the male in the white dress shirt. I threw myself over the threshold into the family room.

My eyes widened, and I scanned over everyone sitting in the room. I recognized all of them besides a single woman. Two of them were standing up. The one I knew for a fact called my name, and the other I desperately wanted to avoid.

I turned back to Charletta, Wicks, and the man between them.

My voice mewled, "You're..."

...

Thank you for reading! :D Have a gouda day! (Nonnegotiable, if you're lactose intolerant, you're about to be in a lot of pain, sorry, not sorry. Lol).

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slutty-mcree · 6 years

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!!!! @shoeswithoutsocks

listen, buddy, thank you so much for this request omg.

I really hope you don't mind my song choice! Ring of fire absolutely screams Jesse Mcree and i love it so much, but the song ‘big bad handsome man’ by Imelda May was introduced into my life a few weeks ago, and I haven't been able to stop associating it with Mchanzo since hearing it adsk. You've handed me a golden opportunity i cant pass up. (Seriously if you haven't heard that song please listen and tell me it doesn’t absolutely fucking radiate Mcree energy...)

Anyways! I hope you enjoy <3

—

“You are telling me you can sing..? Seems...unlikely.”

Hanzo could remember just how offended Mcree had looked when he said that; hand clutched over his heart, mouth slightly agape as though someone had suddenly struck him.

“Darlin..sweetheart...my huckleberry pie..you sayin’ you don’t think I got talent?”

“Obviously I believe you have talent, Mcree. Overwatch would not have recruited you otherwise. I am just unsure as to how much of that talent is...musical.”

In hindsight, Hanzo supposed he should have known better. Jesse Mcree, by nature, was never one to withdraw from a challenge. It was proven time and time again—whether it was showcasing a dauntless, unnecessary act on the field or following through on an unsuspecting fool who was not expecting to be taken up on their dare. The cowboy was, without a doubt, the very definition of ostentatious--and evidently, Hanzo’s comment made him feel like he needed to prove something.

Hanzo Shimada had provoked the southern, gun-slinging bear and now he was now going to pay the price for it.

“I cannot believe you helped orchestrate such a ridiculous charade.” The archer scoffs with a tinge of annoyance coloring his tone. He eyes over the homemade flyer in his hand; decorated in obscenely glittery drawings of music notes and tiny cartoon versions of cowboy hats. Big, bold letters spelled out ‘karaoke night: featuring the musical talents of Jesse Mcree’, and Hanzo glances from the piece of paper to the Korean woman in front of him warily.

“Don’t look at me like that, Han! Lucio made the flyers and did the audio set up stuff, all I did was set up the chairs.” Hana defends herself, though the mirthful smile that’s present indicates that wasn’t completely true. “Besides, karaoke is awesome! Look you have a front-row seat and everything!” She gestures to a folding chair that sat front and center to the boxing ring in the training area watchpoint offered (which was now made out to be like some kind of stage.)There were a few more rows of chairs just like it, though that one in particular quite literally had his name written on it. In messy, sparkly blue lettering...

A long, albeit dramatic sigh rolls from Hanzo's chest as he takes a seat, arms firmly crossed. He can practically sense the Meka pilots ever widening smile from beside him, and he vaguely hears her utter something along the lines of ‘mission dragon strike is a go!’ before running off somewhere.

It isn’t long before other agents trickle in, among the small crowd being Genji himself. His brother takes a seat next to him, and Hanzo attempts to probe for any type of information he can about what’s to be expected out of this aside from the obvious. Though, much to his chagrin, Genji offers nothing; the other man just sits there and has the audacity to shush Hanzo all while somehow being able to radiate utter smugness behind his impassive faceplate.

The archer narrows his eyes in return, a quiet huff leaving him as he turns his attention back to the stage with a glower etched on his face. It felt as though everyone was aware of something he wasn’t, which caused an infuriating mixture of concern and panic to flutter in the lower part of his stomach. One would hope his words days prior wouldn't of offended Jesse to the point he was willing to organize an entire ordeal just to embarrass himself or his own lover.

Then again… this was Jesse “once went streaking through the streets during a category five storm because someone told him he wouldn’t do it” Mcree.

Hanzo shrinks at the onslaught of other ridiculous possibilities the cowboys could be subjecting him to tonight; Images of Jesse in nothing but underwear, howling out a song that’s far too high pitched for him is the first thing that comes to mind…

The man sighs, although before his concern could get the better of him the lights of the gym suddenly dim just as a tall silhouette makes its way on stage, causing the soft chatter of the crowd to dwindle into silence. Hanzo makes another huff when forced to squint in the lack of lighting, unable to make out a familiar hat but not much else. A moment passes, then the lights above the makeshift stage suddenly alight brightly once again, illuminating the cowboy now occupying the space with a glow that could almost be called ethereal.

Hanzo blinks, and he finds himself swallowing against the sudden thickness that gathers at the back of his throat.

Mcree, void of his usual gear, is instead embellished in a form-fitting vest with a tasteful dress shirt underneath; which, in Hanzo opinion, was unfairly left unbuttoned a few notches lower than probably necessary. Mcree then smiles, toothy and suave as he gives an experimental strum against the guitar strapped to his torso, dark eyes immediately meeting Hanzo’s own.

The archer fights back the urge to swallow again.

“Howdy, everybody~” The southerner greets in a way that’s somehow so damn provocative it elects a series of whistles and cheers from the crowd. Honeyed laughter echoes through the standing mic, grin never forsaking him. “I’d like to thank everyone for comin’. Got a real special song for a real special person tonight.”

Mcree winks in his lover's direction, and suddenly Hanzo is aware of a dozen cheeky gazes and smiles on him from every damn direction. Despite being able to remain relatively straight-faced, heat burns the tips of the archer's ears.

Much to his own displeasure.

Mcree grins a little wider, before counting down from three. A pre-recorded tune of saxophone and base notes then begin to play from a pair of speakers from behind him, and along with it Mcree begins steady beat with his guitar; the symphony creates a type of rhythm that immediately reminds Hanzo of the old American style songs from the 1950’s his father would occasionally listen to. It's amazing, really; Mcree’s fingers strum against the strings of his guitar with such fluid ease it renders Hanzo shocked at first. Though really what is more surprising than the skillful use of the instrument is the actual sound of Mcree’s voice.

‘The man is tall, mad, mean, and good-lookin', And he's got me his eye. When he looks at me, I go weak at the knees, He's got me going like no other guy. Cause he's my big, bad, handsome man, He's got me in the palm of his hand. He's the Devil Divine, I'm so glad that he's mine, Cause he's my big, bad, handsome man~”

It held a gruff yet ever seductive timbre that resonated Hanzo through his core and sent small bumps prickling the surface of his skin. His jaw drops ever slightly, though he’s only made aware when the icy, metallic touch of Genji's hand pushes his chin up to forcibly close the gap.

“May I get you a something to drink, brother? You are looking extremely thirsty.” The cyborg snickers from beside him. Red rises over ivory skin, and Hanzo turns his head to with a look sharp enough to cut the man in half where he sits--though it’s not a half second later before his attention is brought back to the stage.

‘With his rugged good looks yeah he's got me hooked

Got me where he wants me to be

With his arms so wide, he pulls me in by his side

He's the kind of guy that does it for me’

Cause he's my big bad handsome man yeah

He's got me in the palm of his hand

He's the devil divine, I'm so glad that he's mine

Cause he's my big bad handsome man

Ooh

My big bad handsome man, yea

He's got me in the palm of his hand

He's the devil divine, I'm so glad that he's mine

Cause he's my big bad handsome man

Mcree is staring at him with a wide, far too charming smile as he finishes up the rest of the song. It ends with a long, soulful hum—and the group of ten to fifteen sounds more like a crowd of hundreds with amount of clapping and cheering that goes on. He chuckles, bowing with a polite tip of his hat and signature “thank you kindly” before he exits the stage to allow those next in line (Reinhardt) to showcase their talents. As the boisterous German takes center stage, Hanzo manages to shake away the astonished look of his face and swiftly disperses to the water fountain in the far corner he watched Mcree strut off too.

“I must say that...was impressive,” Hanzo compliments as he approaches. He eyes Mcree as he smiles and leans away from the water fountain to wipe the thin layer of sweat across his forehead with the back of his hand. “Why thank you, darlin.’ Mighty kind of you to say. Gotta admit it’s nice to know I can still surprise ya.” His smile curls into a coquettish smirk, as if being able to read Hanzo’s thoughts the entire duration of his performance. The archer was not always as impassive as he thought he was, that’s for certain.

“Mm…” a subtle smirk of its own tugs at the corner of Hanzo’s lips. He leans forward, adjusting Mcree’s slightly askew collar. “Indeed. Actually, I am so surprised I wanted to ask if you would care to favor me an encore.”

Mcree blinks, chuckling softly and scratching the back of his head. “Encore, eh? Why I don’t mind, but I take it Reinhardt is gonna be a while—“

“I am referring to an encore of a more private sort. In my quarters...” Hanzo interrupts.

“Oh? Oh…” The southern gunslinger grins, clearing his throat as he wraps a well-sculpted arm around his lover's shoulder. “Well sweetheart, I’m thinkin’ that can be arranged.”

#Hanzo rates Mcrees performance an A but hes about to give him a D if you know what a mean #adskj #I live for thirsty mother fucker hanzo #in fact i might....make a part two? this was a lotta fun akdn #i've looked at this for far too long please just take it #apologies for any mistakes i dont have a beta but i read over it like 300 times i tried my bestt #mchanzo #jesse mcree #hanzo shimada #overwatch #my stuff #overwatch fics #mchanzo fic #one-shot #kareoke #mlm #gay #my writing crap

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