#yandere Jesse McCree x reader
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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
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Overwatch Masterlist
Jesse Mccree
Naga Jesse
Scary Movies + Male S/o
Werewolf Jesse
S/o always making him Food for when he returns
Soft life HC
“Miss Honeys Escape Attempt” BEFORE
Male Dinner worker Teasing Mccree
Curvy S/o trying to lose weigh
“Miss Honey Escape Attempt” AFTER
S/o avoiding Jesse cause he shares the same name as their brother
Stalking a ex-MMA fighter
Animal Tamer S/o threatening Mccree with a Tiger
Attempting to poison Mccree
Stripper S/o
Harpy S/o broke her wing
Cuddly S/o
Tsundere Smol Chubby S/o
S/os got a fat ass
S/o with separation anxiety
Flustered Touch starved S/o
Gender neutral S/o not feeling good about their appearance
S/o refusing to wear glasses cause they dont want to look at their captor
Sensitive s/o who crys alot
Dealing with S/os stalker
S/o trying to kill themselves with jesses gun when he threatens them
S/o whos good at the Knife game
Happy drunk S/o
Soft headcannons
Threatening jesse with his own gun
Cheering jesse up after a stressful day
Painting his weapon
S/o whos prone to accidents
S/o screams “dad dont hurt me” when jesse attempts to kidnap them
Overwatch S/o who works with seduction and espionage
claustrophobic s/o
Asking Jesse out on a date
Mermaid S/o
Confident s/o who gets flustered when they compliment them
Autistic S/o who stimms alot
Genji flirting with Mccrees S/o
Torture
Hanzo Shimada
Finding out S/os Pregnant
Witnessing Genjis Murder
Healer S/o
Punk/Goth S/o
S/o getting a nosebleed from watching Hanzo workout
Too Pure for this world S/o
S/o who can Heal with a kiss
Naga Hanzo
S/o whos Protective of Naga Hanzo
Naga S/o
Someone else taking advantage and leaving S/o to die
Creep trying to look underneath S/os Skirt
‘Stupid’ S/p
Vampire Hanzo with a S/o who faints when bloods taken
S/o with Chaotic Energy
Vampire Hanzo w/ Vampire Hunter S/o
People pleaser S/o ends up hurting themselves
Expressing affection in other ways besides cuddling
Dragon S/o
Finding Drunk S/o in a casino
S/o wearing a Choker with his name on it
Yandere S/o coming up to his door covered in blood
S/o whos fine with Yandere Tendencies
S/o uncomfortable around her family
S/o begging for Mcdonalds
Dragons HC
Attractive yet Oblivious S/o
Sneaky S/o Surprise hugging him
Comforting S/o after failing a test
S/o terrified from something theyve seen
Sneaky S/o Surprising him, ends up moaning
Stopping from S/os rival sabatoging their Ice Skating Preformance
S/os scared of bugs
S/o caring everyone but themselves
Expert insulting s/o
S/o threatening to kill the man who stole their dog
Poly Han/Jess with a S/o who threatens those who try to court them
touch starved hesitant S/o
Naga S/o saying “snakes dont have a gag reflex”
Captive S/o refusing to take medicine for their migraine
Insomniac S/o having to cuddle hanzo to fall alseep
Goblin S/o
Comforting Hanzo after a bad day
S/o dressing as the opposite gender to trick people
Smol S/o who wants to be crushed by hanzo
S/o getting ready to fight cause they heard genji on the roof
Dragons biting hanzo when he tries to touch S/o
S/o whos pregnant with triplets
Bodybuilder s/o
After sex cuddles
S/o who already has a kid
S/o whos hazy with little to no sleep
Homeless S/o who making their living off of street performances
Genji Shimada
Scared S/o will get hurt during a mission
Pissed off S/o
Gore + Torture TW
Vampire Genji
Silly S/o who could Surprise gengi
S/o making a book all about their love for him
Crush falling asleep on his lap
Comforting S/o out of their previous relationship
S/os whos dramatic for attention
Sticking a dozen valentines stickers on his metal body
Blind S/o
Yokai S/o
Washed up Mermaid S/o
Curvy Confident S/o
Getting a weapon maker S/o attention
Cute S/o who attracts bugs and scary animals
Sharpshooter s/o joining overwatch just to spend more time with genji
Unpredictable angry s/o
Roadhog
Petite S/o
Junkrat
Headcannons
Clingy S/o
Sick S/o
Reaper
Werewolf Reaper
Werewolf + Vampire Hybrid Reaper
House wife S/o
Waitress Crush
Scary movies
Halloween Date
Reinhardt
Headcannons
‘Big Dumbass Energy’ S/o
Werewolf S/o who turns out to transform into a puppy
Medic s/o
Overwatch receptionist S/o
Widowmaker
Advancing towards a Enemy S/o
Mercy
Spoiling S/o
Poly mercy/sombra w/ defiant s/o
Headcannons
Moria
S/o that works with Moria
Sombra
Poly mercy/sombra w/ defiant s/o
D.VA
Pro gamer crush taking her #1 spot
Brigitte
Headcannons (female reader)
Lucio
Headcannons
Soldier 76
S/o wearing a lolita dress (male reader)
Ana Amari
“Isn’t this better―you not fighting me for once?”
Poly Mchanzo
Poly Han/Jess with a S/o who threatens those who try to court them
Jesse Mccree
Spanking S/o and having them wear lingerie
S/o whos embarrassed cause theyre quick to cum
Orgasm control & Mirror Kink w/ Male S/o
Hanzo
Getting handsy in a store out of jealousy NS FW-ish
Getting hanzo to wear lingerie
Briggit
Loving her muscles NS FW
#Mccrees the face of this masterlist cause hes the prettiest#fight me#YANDEREAFFECTIONS GOLDEN MASTERLIST#last updated 3/7/23#yandere overwatch#overwatch#overwatch x reader#mccree#jesse mccree#yandere jesse#yandere mccree#hanzo x you#hanzo shimada#hanzo x reader#yandere hanzo#genji shimada#genji#yandere genji#genji x reader#yandere#mccree smut#mccree lemon#hanzo smut#hanzo lemon#yandere x reader#yandere smut#Last updated 4/24/23
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Yandere mcree dirty starter request number 13 plz.
(Just a note, I am still getting used to the whole “Cole Cassidy” timeline we are living in. I wrote the draft with jesse mccree so pls forgive any discrepancies.)
#13: “You’ve been so good lately, my pet. Don’t make me have to punish you.”
“Sit,” Cassidy pulled the collar of your shirt and pushed you onto the floor. The floor was hard and cold from the winter frost, which you couldn’t escape from being so high in the mountains. You hated the cold. Hated having to huddle as close to the fireplace as you possibly could just to escape the freezing temperature permeating through the log cabin. The winds whistled too loud as they picked up mists of white snow from the ground. You really did not like the mountains. If you had your pick, you would stay with Cassidy at the nice shack he had just outside of Santa Fe, but you never did have a choice in the matter. Whenever he went, you were expected to follow.
He must’ve been tired, too, though he never showed it. So you leaned into him, looked up at him through pleading eyes. You didn’t dare say a word, but Cassidy understood what you wanted to say.
But he couldn’t rest. Not yet. There was business he had to attend to and time is money. So he gave you a sympathetic smile and removed his hand from your cheek. You missed the warmth of his touch but you were content to be dismissed, “I’ll be back soon. Don’t get into any trouble while I’m out, or there will be hell to pay.”
There wasn’t much to say. You nodded compliantly and Cassidy headed out the door. Alone again. This time he didn’t need to restrain you. Any town would be miles away and the terrain was difficult. So you were stuck to your own devices in the meantime.
‘I’ll be back soon,’ he had said. Soon was very subjective to Cassidy, you had learned. Soon could mean a few hours or a few days. He was an honest man, usually, but never when he spoke those words. Perhaps he said that to keep you on your best behavior lest he catch you in some mischief.
But the mountains made you miserable and drove you mad with boredom. He knew it, too. Most of your worst fits happened there. Rummaging through his work equipment, sticking your nose in places it didn’t belong, and picking quarrels with Cole in your irritable state. It never ended well, either. Especially when you were defiant with him, it wore his patience paper thin.
“You’d be wise to behave,” he warned, “you’ve been so good lately, pumpkin. Don’t make me have to punish you.”
Even though his words repeated themselves in your head, your mind wandered. Not only did the boredom tempt you to misbehave, but you would do anything to keep your mind from thinking about whatever Cassidy was up to now. You knew he made a living from catching (and often killing) outlaws. It was dangerous and if anything happened to him… You didn’t want to think about that. But every second he was gone was a risk and you worried tirelessly, feeling even more trapped.
You sat up and made your way towards the window besides the front door. It had stopped snowing and you managed to get a clearer view of the land. The cabin was atop a steep side of the mountain, there was hardly any area in front of the house, save for a small shed holding Lord knows what. The moonlight reflected off the icy snow. Specks of snow glittered from the refraction of the light. It was mesmerizing. You wanted to run out into the snow, feel the crunching beneath your feet. Maybe make a snowman or a fort. Like you were a little kid.
But it was freezing. And Cassidy would kill you. His number one rule was to never leave the house without him. It seemed like in that since you were still like a little kid.
Your boots were right beside you, still wet around the soles. They seemed dry in the inside and so did your coat hanging beside the door. You had a pair of gloves inside the pockets. Cassidy hadn’t left long ago. So if you spent a few minutes outside, he wouldn’t know, right? But he would definitely notice your footprints in the snow. There was the back door. What’re the odds he would be going through there? Zero to none, you calculated based on no evidence whatsoever.
Just a moment wouldn’t hurt. You just wanted to play around with something other that the fire iron or whatever old books were laying around.
You put on your winter outfit and headed towards the back door, careful not to leave a trail behind. You looked out the window, peering over the terrain. There wasn’t much besides the mountain walls and a few feet of snowy ground. And your heart was racing. Since when had you been so scared? The mountains really had a strange effect on you.
Cold air was seeping through the door and you raised a gloved hand to feel it. Your gloves protected your skin from the chill and your body remained warm in your coat. The cabin was barely warm and you relied most on the fireplace for comfort. Your winter clothing would do just as much for you outdoors as the fireplace would inside.
Throwing caution to the wind, you eagerly opened the door and leapt onto the snowy ground. A thick sheet of snow caught you, enveloping your body in an icy embrace. You smiled and lifted yourself from the snow. The only light was from the moon and the dim porch light from the cabin. Dark forest surrounded you, absolutely silent.
You sat in the snow for a bit, holding your knees to your chest. It was a picturesque view with the snow innocently covering the woods like a christmas postcard. You tried to make out whatever you could through the shadows of trees and bushes, but nothing seemed to come of it. Imagine what could be hiding in there.
Cassidy kept a book of all the plants and animals in the areas he frequented. He always knew what something was when you asked him and was happy to explain it to you. If he were here, you could ask him to take a walk in the forest with you, show you all the animals and keep you protected from the nasty ones. But he wasn’t. In that moment, you felt too vulnerable and ran back inside the cabin, suddenly aware of how flimsy the back door was.
Everything was so quiet. The sound of you unzipping your coat was like a scream. You knew there were bears in the mountain. What if something saw you and decided to make you it’s prey? What could you do? You were unarmed and alone. Cassidy must not have even been gone longer than an hour.
You knew you weren’t supposed to, but you were scared. You didn’t know what was out there. And you had already broken one rule without getting caught. So you made you way to the bedroom and rummaged through Cassidy’s work equipment. He hadn’t even locked his suitcase, to your surprise, sending a pang of guilt through your heart realizing how much he was beginning to trust you. But you could be in danger.
Past the various bullets, a bandolier, and case of cigars was the very journal he had kept. Your face grew red with shame knowing you were violating his privacy. But it was only a silly little book that would hopefully prepare you for the potentially dangerous circumstances in which Cassidy had abandoned you at in the first place. There was a little map, marked with location names and page numbers.
A thud. Outside, near the back door. Your heart beat fast and you froze. That could be one of two things, and both spelled bad news for you. Like a bat out of hell, you quickly placed everything back into Cassidy’s suitcase. Your hands were clumsy with fear and you took longer than you would’ve liked but you thankfully had everything in place before being caught by anyone or anything.
You rose from your seated position and peaked out the bedroom door. Nothing. Just as you had left it. You opened it further and stepped out of the room when you were sure nothing was outside. Taking a few steps, you peaked out the front window. No footsteps, no prints of any kind. Maybe the house was just settling. You sighed and backed away from the window.
A strong grip caught your arm and it felt like your back had hit a wall, “Well,” that familiar gruff voice, “what’ve you been up to, little bunny?”
You turned to face Cassidy, making the most pitiful look you could give him. You looked up at him, mouth agape and struggling to respond, “Cas…”
There was something wrong. He was dirty, some reddish-brown stains covered his shirt in splatters. The look in his eyes was nothing short of primal. Aggressive, but not angry. Hungry.
“Best you answer me,” his grip tightened and you gasped in shock, leaning into him, “I ain’t in any mood to play games with you.”
It frightened you to see him like this. Like any misstep you toke would provoke him. Did he know you had deliberately broken his most important rule, or that you were just about to break another before he caught you? Should you play dumb or tell him the truth? He would’ve surely seen your silhouette in the snow if he had come from where the thud was. Even worse, he could read you like a book and knew precisely when you were lying. But you weren’t defenseless. You knew how to play to your strengths.
You swallowed, hesitantly, speaking with the sweet voice that he loved to hear, “I am very sorry, Daddy, I was so lonely without you. I just went outside to play in the snow, but it was too cold and I didn’t stay for long. That’s all, I promise.”
Cassidy hummed in response, low and aloof. His eyes were dark and you couldn’t detect any emotion from him, but a contemplative look. That usually wasn’t a good sign for you. He must’ve been thinking about what he should do with you.
He took your hand in his, raising it to his lips and placing a soft kiss, “You promise, darlin’?”
Something about his tone of voice sent shivers down your spine. It was playful and deliberate. Like he was about to call your bluff. But how could he? So you nodded, “Promise.”
A large, gloved hand squeezed your cheeks and your hands raised to meet his. His grip was tight and unrelenting, “Oh, honey…” he switched his grip from your face to your throat, you let out a choked gasp, “Thought you knew better than to lie to me.”
Your back was against the wall, Cassidy’s hand keeping you in place. You were gasping for air and holding onto his wrist for dear life. Tears rolled down your cheek and your eyes begged for mercy. But you had really fucked up this time. Jesse was already riled up from whatever business he had just returned from and he had warned you not to misbehave or there would be hell to pay. He was just cashing out on his threat.
“I am gettin’ real sick of your bratty attitude,” he loosened his fingers, allowing you to catch your breath, “Look like you need to be taught some fuckin’ manners.”
Your eyes went blurry, you saw only foggy shadows as Cassidy pulled you away from the wall and lifted you over his shoulder. You pleaded with him through choked sobs but your cries fell on deaf ears. All you could feel was the frigid winter air on your skin, leaving the cabin behind while Cassidy carried you into the shed.
“Now don’t you start with me,” he groaned as he sat you on a flimsy wooded workbench, “You need to fucking behave. Take your clothes off.”
It was freezing. You weren’t sure if you were shaking due to fear or the intense cold. You held onto your body, trying to retain any warmth you could, “Please, Cassidy, it’s too cold.”
He laughed, “That certainly didn’t stop you before, sweetheart. Now, strip before I really give you somethin’ to cry about.”
You could hardly feel anything at that point. Completely numb, you complied and disrobed. Cassidy didn’t say anything, just admired you before him. He would be lying if he said he didn’t anticipate having to punish you when he returned. And he was nothing short of eager to take the frustrations of his day out on you. Nothing satisfied him quite like seeing you like this, absolutely terrified and seeking mercy.
Once you were completely bare, he held you by your hips. He squeezed hard, wanting to leave a mark on you. His hands wandered upwards, fondling your body until he held you by the back of your neck.
You couldn’t help the fire that burned between your legs, mindlessly rocking your hips on the abrasive wood of the workbench. Looking at him through wet eyes, you reached out to feel him. He had his winter jacket on, furs draped over his shoulder and making his already towering figure even more menacing. You wanted him to embrace you, to give you the warmth you desperately needed. But he didn’t.
“Nah, baby, I’ve been too kind to you for far too long,” he took your wrist and gripped it with the same strength that he gripped your hips, “You do what you’re told and don’t test my patience, got it?”
You nodded eagerly, desperate to show your capitulation, “Yes, Daddy, I’ll do anything you ask.”
He hummed, pleased with your response, “I know you will, baby.”
But he didn’t give you a command. Instead, he decided to manhandle you himself, flipping you onto your stomach and pinning your arms behind your back. You wanted so badly to rut against him like a bitch in heat, desperate to quell that feeling between your legs but you had to follow his lead. He wanted to see you like this, overstimulated and touch-starved. Serves you right for misbehaving.
His gloves were still on. The fabric was rough against your already sensitive skin. He began kneading the soft skin in between your thighs, it took all of your will not to squeeze them together and fuck yourself into his hand. You behaved, breathing heavily and trying your best to conceal your moans.
“Let me hear you, baby,” he grabbed your ass and gave it a hard slap, “I want you to lose that sweet voice of yours when I’m done with you.”
Every touch was rough and left a mark on your skin. You cried, moaned, nearly scream as Cassidy abused your body as he pleased. Once he was satisfied, he loomed over your shaken form. His hand made its way to the swell of your ass again and gave it another sharp slap. Your throat was sore but you still managed to whine at the pain. But he wasn’t done with you yet. His thumbs spread you wide open, exposing you to the cold air while your hole was burning from the stretch of Cassidy’s fingers. You knew what he had in mind and tried to prepare yourself mentally for the pain.
You could never be full prepared, however, when Cassidy’s warm cock met with the entrance of your ass. He was far too big to slide into you with any ease, but he choose to stretch you around his cock the best he could anyway. If he had eased into you with his fingers, the burning wouldn’t be so bad, but you couldn’t accommodate his girth and the pain was unbearable. Screams escaped your lips and you were tempted to tell him to stop, but you knew where that would leave you. In much worse pain than this.
He spread you further, sunk into you deeper, and made you scream louder. It seemed like hours before he began to pump himself in and out of you, only halfway in. His hands locked into your hips and he continued to work his way into you. Whenever the pain became bearable, he would push himself deeper inside of you. Like he knew just how to keep you on edge. And all you could do was lay there and let him use you until he was satisfied you had learned your lesson.
By the time his cock was fully inside of you, Cassidy was already fucking you with reckless abandon. Content to just use you like a fleshlight with no regard to your cries. He kept an iron grip on your hips, keeping you in place while he rammed his cock into your abused hole, “Fuck, you’re tight. Gotta fuck you like this more often. Shit, if you keep misbehavin’ I might have to tie you out here for good. How would you like that, baby?”
You whined weakly. The shed was filled with the sound of his balls clapping against your ass and your cries that were muffled with every thrust. His pace grew faster and faster, and his moans turned into growls as he reached his peak. There was nothing for you to hold onto, nothing to keep you in place while Cassidy was reaching his climax. Your tender body scraped against the old, flimsy wood while he brutally fucked your ass.
But the feeling of his warm cum finally filling you, leaking out of the tight space that squeezed his cock and onto your legs, it felt so good. Anything that could give you relief from the cold would be welcome, and you spread your thighs further in an effort to leak out anymore cum.
Cassidy leaned over you, cock still buried inside you. His hands released your hips and you were happy to finally relax. He took his heavy jacket from his shoulders and wrapped it around you. It was finally over, you eagerly enveloped yourself in the warm fur of the coat and let out a sharp exhale.
“Damn baby,” Cassidy pulled himself out of you, wiped the juices on his cock onto your thigh, “I’ve killed plenty men for less than what you did tonight. But fuck if you don’t got a pretty face and a tight ass. Damn lucky, ya know that?”
You had no way of knowing if he was telling the truth, but you were inclined to believe him.
“Let’s get you inside,” he lifted you into his warm embrace, “get you cleaned up, how’s that sound?”
You looked up at him and he gave you a gentle smile, “I would love that, Daddy,” you whispered, not wanting to damage your throat any further.
He placed a kiss on your forehead and carried you inside the cabin. You were sore and it toke you ages for your body to get warm. Perhaps you might think twice in the future about indulging your penchant for mischief. But there was something about that wild, nasty side of Cassidy that lit a spark inside of you.
#not me hating the name cole….#cole cassidy x reader#cole cassidy#tw: dubious consent#tw: noncon#yandere#yandere overwatch#yandere!overwatch#dark overwatch#dark!overwatch#jesse mccree x reader#dark mccree#overwatch mccree#yandere mccree#yandere cassidy#cassidy
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Don’t worry about answering my ask super fast, I’m just happy that you answered. And I love it super detailed ❤️❤️❤️. Your last answer to my ask was really gooodddd. I liked it a lot. Especially how sadistic that Jesse is. With forcing reader to ask/depend on him on mundane things like using the bathroom and he watches it //////. Like he’s trying to reforce into reader’s head that she nothing without him. Have her become not only physically but mentally dependent on him. He’s so mean, it makes me a sensitive baby wanna cry 😭. So I have a question. How he react to a reader that instead does everything she suppose to do as a “proper wife”, cook, clean, sweet, affectionate, etc. but she’s a sensitive baby and cries (full on crying) to him “to stop being mean to me”, from all the twisted minds games he plays. Would he soften up? Or be completely unfazed?.
Hmm… I really think that Jesse would like someone that puts up a bit of a fight against him. But if the reader is already a sensitive and affectionate person from the beginning, then he would probably be softer on her anyway. She wouldn’t have to deal with him being mean often.
Jesse thinks of himself as helping the reader to “become a proper lady” and “give her life purpose.” When she first moved to the small town, she had no real sense of direction in her life but then Jesse came along and put her into a position that she needed to fill. He needed her to fill.
Their relationship would probably start off rough but slowly become normal…
I’ll make a short story for the ask, but I’ll change the reader’s demeanor to fit the scenario.
You were currently sitting on the floor of your “room”. The soft rays of morning sunshine had just barely began to peek through the bedroom window.
Yesterday, Jesse had made you clean the kitchen as he stood and watched. The day before that, he had given you a recipe to follow. He wanted you to cook dinner for him. Cooking in the kitchen would have been peaceful, but of course, he complained the whole time about how a “normal couple wouldn’t have a husband monitoring his own wife as she cooked.” He kept his peace keeper firm in his hand when you began using a knife to cut the vegetables.
He went on about trust, and how “over time your relationship would strengthen”. You had forced yourself to zone out once you felt his hands creep around your sides as you washed your hands in the kitchen sink.
But today, you’re awake before him. You know it because you haven’t heard his heavy footsteps across the hall making the short trek to your “room” yet.
He hasn’t slept in the same bed as you for a few nights now, and deep down, you hope that he doesn’t. The way that he hungrily grabs at your waist as he sleeps behind you, keeps you awake long after he’s fallen asleep.
There isn’t an alarm clock in the room with you. Jesse had removed it after claiming that you could “possibly hang yourself with the cord attached to it on the door knob.” But you still like to guess what time it is. It feels like five in the morning. But it might also be six. There’s no real way to be certain. At least not anymore.
Pulling you from your thoughts, the sound of Jesse’s footsteps are enough to send you into a paralytic shock. You contemplate if hiding under the covers is enough to make him leave you alone, even for just a few more minutes.
His footsteps draw closer and closer, becoming louder with every waking moment. And then they stop, right outside of your door. The soft beeping sound of a old keypad on the outside of the door echos through the quiet room. Then the lock turns, and Jesse enters.
“Mornin’ sunshine~” Jesse slowly drawls, sleep still obviously present in his voice. He folds his arms and leans the side of his body up against the doorframe as he stares down at your shaken form. Like a tradition, every morning he comes in your room and says good morning. If you decide not to respond or glare at him as he comes in, it predetermines how he’ll treat you for the rest of the day.
Exhaling the breath you didn’t notice you were holding, you weakly muster a response. “Good morning…” You breathe, avoiding eye contact, opting to look at the floor instead.
You watch as Jesse steps out from the doorway, allowing the door to swing and close shut. Your chance of freedom leaves you, again. Your focus shifts back to Jesse as he slowly walks towards the locked bathroom door.
“Can I use the bathroom, please?” You plead. You decide to look away from him when you ask. Saving the last amount of pride you have left.
“Of course, sweetheart” Jesse reply’s cheerfully. As though forcing you to ask to relieve yourself every day is something that brings him joy.
You scramble to stand from the cold floor once you hear him unlock the door. Moving always feels awkward when Jesse’s eyes are watching you. The stress of never making a mistake in his presence is suffocating.
Jesse steps to the side of the doorway to give you enough space to enter the bathroom. His hand is raised over you, hanging on to the top of the doorframe. It always feels like his large form takes up all the space in a room, until there’s no where else for you to go but in a corner. Trapped and afraid.
For a moment, you think to yourself that maybe, just maybe, Jesse would step away. Give you a chance to use the bathroom alone. Treat you like a decent human being for once, but he doesn’t bat an eye as you begin pulling down your pants. He never looks away when you reach for toilet paper and he always seems to pay more attention when you rise from the toilet to pull up your pants. Throughout the entire ordeal, you try your hardest to never look in his direction.
When you’re done getting ready for the day, Jesse then leads you downstairs to the kitchen. You notice how he always has you walk in front of him, never trusting you to be out of his sight.
“I want you to make our breakfast today…” he says while reaching into the refrigerator and pulling out a container of eggs. You watch, attentively, as he sits multiple ingredients onto the counter. Once finished, he quickly walks toward the dining table and drags a chair into the corner of the kitchen, folding his arms as he leans against the wall.
There are enough ingredients to make pancakes, scrambled eggs and sausage, you think to yourself. Grabbing a pan and a stick of butter from the array of ingredients lining the counter, you begin cooking breakfast.
Cooking has been the only thing that Jesse has allowed you to do on your own. It’s the only thing left of your past life. You can’t help but think to yourself that maybe…you can make this new living situation work to your benefit.
Pouring the fresh pancake batter in small circles on the stove, you think about how you don’t have to work a job. Or pay bills or worry about taxes. Jesse handles all of that for you. He keeps a roof over your head. He keeps you clothed and fed. You think of how this new life may get easier for you as time moves on.
Paying full attention to the pancakes cooking on the stove I front of you, you reach for the container of eggs on the other side of the counter.
But it happened so quickly…
How could you have been so clumsy?
You lost your grip on an egg, forced to watch helplessly as it hits the floor behind you. Through the long silence, you hear Jesse click his teeth as he begins to stand from his chair.
Moving closer to your form, he reaches across the stove and turns off the eye you were using. Grabbing the hot pan of pancakes, he removes them from the heat and sits it on an unused eye.
By analyzing Jesse’s harsh movements, you can already tell how angry he is. He doesn’t even have to say anything. All you can do is wait quietly for his next move.
But hadn’t you been good? You’d done everything he has asked of you without putting up a fight. You’ve been a “perfect wife”… just like he wanted. So why, why was he so angry with you all the time?
“I’m sorry” is all you manage to utter. “I didn’t mean to waste an egg, I just, you know, I was so focused on not burning the pancakes that I-
Hastily, you rush to grab some paper towels. “I can clean it up no problem, see?” Bending down to your hands and knees, you start grabbing at the scattered egg shell pieces and the egg yolk.
Tears are flowing out of your eyes endlessly. It makes it hard for you to see, forcing you to scramble across the counter looking for the sink to drop the egg shells in. You haven’t heard Jesse say anything yet, his massive form looming over you as you continue to clean up the mess you’ve made.
This was the first time Jesse had seen you cry. You looked so… eager, to please him. He watched as you tediously scrubbed the floor once again. You feel Jesse’s strong hand grab the underside of your arm and pull you to stand.
“You just made a mess, that’s all… Right?” Jesse reassured. “It can be cleaned up and you can get right back to making breakfast.”
You felt Jesse’s large hand rest against your cheek as he used his thumb to wipe away your tears. He pulled your body into his embrace and kept you in a tight standing hug.
Jesse’s previous irritation had vanished faster than it arrived. You had expected him to berate you about wasting food. Or hit you and drag you back to your room for wasting his hard earned money on an egg you could carelessly drop.
But he didn’t.
#yandere overwatch#overwatch#jesse mccree#x reader#jesse x reader#Cain#cole cassidy#overwatch cole cassidy#yandere x reader#cowboy#tw yandere#tw kidnapping#tw: brainwashing#tw abuse
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AN: Been feeling guilty about my absence and slow posting so here's a teeny tiny thing I wrote as a warm up for myself a little while back😬
--
He always comes just as youre about to fall asleep.
Without fail, as soon as your body goes lax, heart rate finally slowed and nightly fears all but vanished- maybe tonight he'll leave you be. That’s when the door to your bedroom opens.
So silent as he does so, the only indication that hes here being the soft yellow glow that seeps in from the light in the hallway as the door is slowly pushed open, and the large, foreboding shadow he casts across the carpet, growing larger with every silent step closer.
You’ve grown tense now, every drop of calmness wrung out of you by the time the bed dips low and shifts to acomadate his weight.
The heat from his body is stifling as he settles in behind you, drapinng the thin sheet over both your bodies as he presses himself just close enough to you as he can without actually touching.
His hand is already in his pants, you hear the soft rustle of fabric as he jerks himself at an already eager pace, and you have the sickening thought that it had probably been there long before he came knocking at your door.
The groans of pleasure he makes always start out low and hushed, rumbling in his chest like hes trying to keep from distrurbing you, even as the jerks of his hand grows more frevrent, slick sounds echoing noisily throughout the quiet, and his lips (wet and sticky from running his tongue over them) press smacking kisses up and down your neck.
He knows you're awake by the soft, sleepy sounds of protests you make when he presses himself closer, enough that you can feel the warm, pulsing tip of his cock just brushing against the small of your back as he fucks himself into his fist. But if anything your noises only encourage him to be more bold. Throws his free arm - the one made of metal - over your waist, holding your arms at your side and keeping you close, making sure you won't squirm away as he buries his face in your hair and breathes in deep, filling his lungs with your scent.
All you can do now is lie there, limp and unresponsive in his hold and stare off into the darkness, praying that any moment now you'll wake up and find this all a nightmare. But just like every night before, you're forced to ackowlege that the strange man behind your back and his intention are very very real.
His hand is working faster now, hips bucking harder into his own touch, grinding the leaking tip against the blessed bit of bare skin at your back where your sleep shirt had ridden up.
"Oh- Baby-," he sighs, breath hot on your skin as his kisses drop lower to your shoulder, all his concerns about disturbing you completely out of the window as he nears his end.
"One of these days," he's saying through all his panting and moaning, so riled up just from having you this close to him. "Youll be all mine. And then I'll make you feel so good."
You shiver at his heated promise, they've been getting more frequent, backed up with more urgency and passion in his disillusioned cries of ecstasy, and you cant help but worry how much longer youll have before he finally makes good on them.
"Don’t that sound nice, sweetheart? Don't you want me to touch you?" He asks, voice breathy and hopeful as the hand around your waist slips down into your sleep shorts, dexterous metal fingers cold against your skin in their search for any sign of arousal.
He doesn't find it, and his voice reflect his disappointment as he huffs out his next words,
"That's alright," he coos to you, pressing himself even closer to your back, rocking his hips to grind himself against your warm skin. "It's ok if you ain't ready yet. I'll wait as long as I need to."
Already strained words dissolve into a long, drawn out growl that rummbles in his chest as he drives himself hard into his fist just a few more times before cumming, hot and wet against your back and clinging to your clothes, metal hand still nestled in your underwear.
You hear him sigh, content or forlorn, you aren't sure. But it hardly matter to you because finally he's leaving, slowly dragging his hand from your bottoms to tuck himself back into his pants, the buckle on his belt clicking softly as its refastened.
He creeps back towards the door on silent feet, and turns the doorknob without a sound. The hallway light floods back in, you stare at the shadow he leaves on the floor.
And just before he creeps out the door you swear you hear him whisper,
"Soon, sweetheart."
#yandere jesse mccree#yandere jesse mccree x reader#yandere mccree#yandere mccree x reader#yandere overwatch#yandere overwatch x reader
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just something to think about... :)
—NSFW UNDER THE CUT
You suffer from anxiety. Ordering a meal on your own and going to the grocery store are enough to send you into panic mode. Your best friend/neighbor invites you over for thanksgiving, and promises it’s only a small gathering, so you decide to go. And it is, really, but it’s still got you riled up. You kept making eye contact with a very tall, gruff man baring a heavy accent.
When everyone makes haste into the living room to chat over a glass of wine, the man pulls you to the side and introduces himself as Mccree. His voice is smooth, low, and very calming. He tells you he’s noticed your twitching and nervous looks, and that he’ll walk you out if you’d like. You shyly nod, look up at him, and let a quiet thank you slip your lips. When you reach your door, he slips you his number for any future times you may need his help, and you would have told him that it was fine and this was enough from him, but he was gone as soon as he came. You couldn’t help but admit it made you feel warm inside.
One day a couple months later you really need to go out and do laundry, because yours has so conveniently stopped working. So you do, but it’s packed, and you’ve bumped into a couple people with angry glares and now you’re panicking. You barely manage to text an “I need you”
It really wasn’t the best choice of words, but it was enough, and it was short enough to be typed as fast as you needed him to be there.
He asks where you are, but you’re too busy shaking in the bathroom hearing all the commotion outside. Before you know it, he’s carrying you out of the bathroom and taking your keys out of your pockets, whispering to you that it’s going to be alright and rubbing a hand down your back. He unlocks the car and places you in the passenger seat. Then, he leaves and comes back with your loads of laundry. You shakily whisper a thank you. He nods and says “It’s no problem, darlin’.” Then he takes you home.
You thank him again and when you walk inside, you notice a pair of panties missing. It’s no big deal, they’re small and could have easily been left in the machine or fallen from the basket. Little do you know, you never actually told him where you were, and he’s home jacking off to the smell of you, planning when to take more than just your underwear home with him. He already has blueprints of a cozy little room to build into the basement for you, with locks of course. What could he say? Watching you for those few months before this day was the best choice he’s ever made.
Ever since he was invited to that first thanksgiving by an old friend and saw you, it was meant to be. You were so enticing and shy, he couldn’t help but envision himself taking care of you. He thought it might be crazy, but then he heard your voice. It struck him in all the right places, and seeing you look up at him being so timid and quiet? You were doomed from the moment you laid eyes on him.
#dark oneshot#dark!au#dark!fic#dark!overwatch#dark!mccree#dark mccree#jesse mccree x reader#jesse mccree x reader oneshot#mccree x reader#yandere jesse mccree x reader#yandere mccree#yandere!mccree#dark!mccree x reader#yandere!mccree x reader#mccree#dark overwatch
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The Wolf (Part Two)
Yandere! McCree
Part One
Weeks passed by slowly.
You hated it here.
You hated the sight of the man who held you captive. You couldn’t stand to look at him, only feeling disgust when your eyes grazed his in brief eye contact when he’d go into the basement of what you assumed to be his house. You hated the cold cement walls that trapped you and the unbreakable windows you had tried to shatter on many occasions. You hate the bed your ankle had been chained to and the books you’ve read countless times. You couldn’t handle it anymore.
You wanted out. You needed out!
Why was he even keeping you here? Did you something you weren’t supposed to? As a way to get back at you? To never let you go? To ruin your life? Maybe even ruin you?
A shiver shot down your spine as you tried to find his reasoning for kidnapping you; it was always the same few that stayed in your mind, you weren’t able to think of much else.
The stairs suddenly creaked, peeking your attention. Your eyes quickly shot to the wooden staircase, the same one you ran up to escape maybe 3 months ago; days blended into each other and you eventually lost track of time. A pair of cowboy boots came into view as your kidnapper walked down the stairs. Your mouth went dry as you attempted to swallow your anxiety.
‘What does he want now?” You thought to yourself, sitting on your bed, feeling the soft mattress as you moved back, stopping once your back hit the cement, your eyes making contact with those of Jesse’s.
“Why do you always look at me like that, Darlin?” He said as he stood before you, taking in your frightened form, “You always look so scared, like I’m boutta eat ya.”
“Please just let me go.” Your voice was weak, a newly developed raspiness due to a lack of water that you began to refuse to drink, thinking that the man was mixing something in to keep you frail after the last time you had almost escaped this nightmare, “Please.”
“Aw, now Sweetpea, you know I can’t do that.” He chuckled, his eyes running over every inch of your body, taking notice of your slight tremble.
You remained silent. Fear racing through your veins as he took a step closer, setting down a plate of food that you figured to be dinner. Your stomach churned at the thought of having to eat the food he made, even though you had devoured the meals previously after starving yourself in retaliation to the man. You hated yourself for when the the thought of his cooking to be quite delicious, you felt nauseous; how could you ever think that of your kidnapper?
“Why am I here?” You asked, your eyes cast down to your palms in your lap, avoiding the unwavering stare of Jesse’s, “Why can’t you just let me go?”
A smirk played on the corner of his lips as a slight chuckle left his throat, “I had told you back when we were dating, nobody can have you but me.” He lurched forward, taking a fist full of the collar of your shirt, almost ripping the fabric in the process as he brought his face close to yours, the tip of his nose grazing yours. You gulped in terror; he’d never done this before and you could very clearly see the building annoyance in his eyes as his expression drew into a frown, “You’re mine. Got that?”
No words fell from your lips as you could only look in his eyes, too nervous to look away. He held you like that for only a moment, blinking rapidly before letting go, allowing you to plop back onto the bed, scrambling away from him; horror written in your features. He looked at you in shock, moving forward to hug you, much to your overwhelming confusion. He profusely apologized for causing you harm and promised to never hurt you.
Tears welled in your eyes, what did you do to deserve to be sitting where you are?
Did you accidentally cut someone off while driving? Is it because you walked out of a store with forgetting to pay for an item in your bag? Did you somehow kill someone? You tried to make some sense even though you never came up with anything.
Jesse pulled back, pursing his lips as he lifted his hand, to which you flinched at much to his dismay, and wiped your tears away with his thumb, “It’s okay. I gotcha, Sweetheart. I’m gonna protect you from everything in this cruel world.”
You needed to get out.
——————————
Masterlist
#mccree#jesse mccree#overwatch#overwatch mccree#overwatch x reader#overwatch x reader insert#x reader insert#x reader#yandere#yandere! mccree#yandere! jesse mccree x reader#mccree x reader#jesse mccree x reader#overwatch jesse mccree#jesse mccree x gender neutral! reader#x gender neutral reader#gender neutral reader#gender neutral
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Jesse McCree/Cole Cassidy Masterlist
A Work in Progress..
#jesse mccree#overwatch mccree#blackwatch mccree#yandere mccree#jesse mccree x reader#jesse mccree imagine#mccree x reader#yandere jesse mccree
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“You better stop struggling in my lap like that, Angel. You’ll start something you don’t want me to finish~” with a deadlock mccree? in the company of the rest of the gang too- just for the added dash of humiliation
I edited the prompt sentence a bit so it fits him a little better. Hope you don’t mind!
Content Warnings: yandere behavior, the reader takes three gulps of alcohol, alcohol consumption, intimidation, pet names, flirting, suggestive content, sexual/NSFW implications, and vague descriptions of sexual acts.
This is a yandere work. Proceed at your own risk and please be mindful of your triggers.
:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:
Stop your teasing
:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:
You had always known that McCree was dangerous, but you hadn't quite understood exactly how dangerous he was until you were brought with him to a meeting with his gang down in a basement refashioned to a bar.
The Deadlock gang was something everyone had heard of, and when you'd understood that McCree was a part of it, no, not just a part of it -- leading it, you'd felt your heart sink. Just how would you be able to run away now?
Judging from the smirk on McCree's lips when he guided you into the room, this must have been exactly what he wanted, and the reason for bringing you here. He wanted you to know how utterly hopeless your situation was.
Your eyes wandered around the room. Ashe (you shuddered inwardly when you saw her) was pouring a glass of some dark alcoholic liquid for herself, sitting on the edge of the bar. P.T, Terran and Zeke were all sitting around one of the two tables, playing cards and cursing at each other.
In the middle of the table lay what you could only assume were stolen goods they were gambling for. Weapons, jewelry, and -- was that an organ!? Quickly, you looked away, only to catch B.O.B's gaze from where he was sitting at the other table next to someone you didn't recognize. He grinned at you, and you looked down.
"Bringing the 'babe' today McCree?" He said, looking you up and down. McCree grinned widely at him before sitting down on one of the empty chairs at the table, dragging you down onto his lap with a surprised yelp.
The other guy at the table chuckled. "She's sweet. No wonder you haven't brought her here yet." You could see on him that he was considering flirting with you, and you shifted uncomfortably in McCree's lap, trying to stand up.
"Babe sit still," he said, using the arm wrapped around your waist to pull you flusher against him "you don't wanna rile me up here now do you?" The implications of his words made you freeze, and Ashe, whom you hadn't noticed joined you, chuckle.
"I don't think any of the boys would mind if you bent her over the table. They haven't gotten, mind you even seen, any action for months." The triplets by the other table let out a clamor of complaints, and Zeke took the moment of distraction to steal cards from his opponents.
You felt yourself instinctively lean back towards McCree, wanting to escape Ashe's crimson gaze and lazy smile. You didn't say anything and decided to stare down at your lap and the muscular arm holding you in place. "Aw she's shy," Ashe teased before taking a swig of her liquor. "We won't bite, hun. Not unless you want us to."
McCree's grip around you hardened, and you could feel him tense up under you. Seems like he wasn't as unaffected by the jests of his teammates as he tried to seem like he was.
However, he just laughed heartily. "Don't scare her too much ya hear? Get me something to drink. Something strong." He shooed her off with his trademark grin and rested his chin on your shoulder, taking a deep breath of your scent. The hand that wasn’t holding you snug to his chest traveled down to fiddle with the hem of your dress, teasingly “slipping” down to your inner thigh every now and then.
When Ashe returned with a glass filled with something brown, you snatched it before McCree could and took three heavy gulps, shuddering and grimacing at the strong taste. He burst into laughter at once, chuckles making your entire body vibrate. Ashe looked amused and approving. “Well she ain't scared that’s for sure.”
“If I need to endure you feeling me up all evening I might as well get more comfortable with it,” you said. It took a few moments for you to realize just what you said, and horrified, you slapped your hands over your mouth. McCree wore the cockiest grin you have ever seen and leaned close, hot breath ghosting over the shell of your ear.
“Well if you want me to feel you up more you should have told me, darling,” he purred, hands resuming their travel. The drink stood half-empty and forgotten on the table.
:✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ:･ﾟ✧:･ﾟ*:･ﾟ✧*:
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere overwatch#yandere overwatch x reader#yandere deadlock#yandere mccree#yandere deadlock mccree#tw alcohol mention#tw alcohol consumption#yandere story#yandere drabble#yandere drabbles#yandere scenario#yandere scenarios#shortyanderestories#short yandere stories#sys#anonymous suggestion#yandere jesse mccree#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#yandere x you
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𝓜𝓬𝓒𝓻𝓮𝓮, 𝓡𝓮𝓪𝓹𝓮𝓻, + 𝓙𝓾𝓷𝓴𝓻𝓪𝓽 𝓨𝓪𝓷𝓭𝓮𝓻𝓮 𝓗𝓮𝓪𝓭-𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼
Author’s Note: Once again, this is a very old request which I decided to fulfill in order to give my blog new material and to honor old promises. I’m quite sentimental as it were, so I hope if the people who requested these see them they enjoy the read. Also, no gif for this head-canon page. I didn’t feel like it would fit in well.
Please not I do not condone yandere-like behaviors, nor the manipulation of others. This is purely for fictional purposes.
Request: “Alright, just do general yandere hc for McCree, Jamison, and Gabriel. Write whatever is comfortable for you to begin with.” - Anon
Rating: 17+ (Teen+ for Ao3); 3rd person, gender neutral
Warning: Mentions of Violence, possessive & controlling behavior, mention of being held against one’s will, etc. Please proceed with caution or avoid reading if you are sensitive to these things.
Word Count: 718
ＭｃＣｒｅｅ
Jesse would be the doting and silently dangerous type of yandere. One moment, he’s very caring and catering to his muse’s needs and the next he’s breaking something in anger.
He tries not to upset his “little dove”, as he calls them, but sometimes they push the wrong buttons or get on his nerves.
Jesse is the type of person who, if he were to take someone against their will, would easily become the object of Stockholm syndrome.
He cannot keep his hand off, always needing that physical contact and reassurance.
He’s good at getting what he wants, from using a caring, genuine persona to poking at old wounds and antagonizing his muse.
Jesse constantly finds excuses to be near them, if he doesn’t live with them or keep them at home.
He is not the stalker type, being very blunt and obvious about his wishes and presence. He tries to be friendly and approachable as much as possible, genuinely believing his actions to be normal and just.
Never leaves his muse completely alone. Jess would be there when most and least expected, though not always in person. He’s quite good at surveillance techniques.
He doesn’t usually pose much of a threat to anyone, but he will not hesitate to make his anger or distaste known.
It is not pretty when he starts to break things or cut off his muse’s contacts. He wouldn’t kill anyone, simply break some phones, pay people to delete emails, etc.
Very good at making his muse feel both isolated and alone when he needs to.
Jesse is very emotionally manipulative.
Ｒｅａｐｅｒ
Unlike Jesse, Gabriel is dangerous in every way.
He would not let his muse roam around, preferring to be the type of yandere who takes control of every and any situation. He would quickly find an excuse for his muse to move in with him and then, soon after, a way to keep them there.
Gabriel is both a physical and emotional threat, easily shifting blame onto his muse even when they are not the guilty party. He doesn’t hesitate to make them feel small and useless, liking their dependence on him.
Physically, he almost never follows through with his threats, but he often makes his muse think that another step out of line will come at the cost of pain.
Prefers the use of softer, less intense methods of punishment on his muse, however. He may have a controlling, manipulative nature but he still believes he cares for his muse.
While he may stalk his muse at first, even leaving notes or gifts of affection, he takes the first opportunity he can to obtain the person of his obsession.
He stalks family members and friends, ensuring everything is in order all hours of the day.
He is discrete in his movements and actions, making sure his muse has daily contact with the outside world and those close to them. He can’t afford someone ruining their connection and relationship, no matter how much he doesn’t like the idea of sharing.
Much more intense about surveillance than Jesse.
While he’s not willing to show love and pure adoration easily, he expects it from his muse.
Ｊｕｎｋｒａｔ
Jamison is much more distanced than either McCree or Reaper, preferring to observe and love from afar.
He can’t have his muse hurting themself around his projects and explosives, so having them close to him wasn’t an option.
He would be very good at keeping things controlled from afar. Well placed letters of adoration, small gifts, and anonymous food deliveries always kept his muse guessing who he was and drew their attention from the “stalker” possibility.
Equally strategic threats and promises of hurt would ward off an potential threats to his relationship with his muse, including family and friends.
Despite being called a lunatic and an empty-headed fool, Jamison is smarter than most people. He would cover his tracks and plan everything out to the t to avoid mishaps.
Jamison would definitely be the kind of person to stalk out in the open, dressing and acting the part of a normal citizen so he could get closer to and interact with his muse in public.
In the shadows, he definitely is the type to take photos and create albums of “moments” he’s shared “with” them.
#overwatch#overwatch x reader#fanfiction#overwatch fanfiction#headcanon#yandere#yandere headcanons#jesse mccree#jesse mccree x reader#mccree x reader#x reader#/reader#junkrat x reader#jamison fawkes#jamison fawkes x reader#junkrat#gabriel reyes#reaper#reaper x reader#gabriel reyes x reader
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yandere Jesse with a s/o who has amnisia. What would Jesse do would be try and fix her, use her fragile state to his advantage?
You blinked awake and were met by bright lights, beeping and a pain through your whole body. You looked around and realised you were in a hospital, a patient no less. Looking around, you saw flowers, balloons and 'get well soon' cards on your bedside table.
"Oh you're awake!" one of the other patients exclaimed. "You've been out for days. Figures you wake up when that lovely man isn't here."
"Lovely… man?" you asked.
"Your boyfriend dear. He's been sitting in that chair there the whole time you've been here, save for bathroom breaks."
Boyfriend? You don't remember having a boyfriend. Come to think of it, you don't remember much of anything.
"Oh, sweetheart," came a soft voice from the door to the room.
You looked over to see a tall man in a cowboy hat, rushing to your side and taking your hand in his, kissing it and holding it to his chest.
"You're finally awake," he said, tears pricking his eyes.
"Who are you?" you asked, pulling your hand back.
"Wh- sweetheart it's me, Jesse. Jesse McCree," he said, hurt in his tone. "I'll call the nurse and tell her you're finally awake."
You watched as McCree gave you a sweet smile and stood to leave to find a nurse. You furrowed your brow, trying to remember him, your past, anything that would give you a clue into who you were. But you recalled nothing.
McCree and a nurse arrived and she picked up the clipboard beside your bed and went through her usual questions.
"Name?" she asked.
You blinked for a moment. Name? You weren't quite sure. After your silence and lack of reply, she put the clipboard down and pulled McCree aside and had a hushed conversation.
"Alright, Mr. McCree. If you're sure." They both turned back to you and the nurse flashed you a bright smile. "You're alright to go home, your darling boyfriend here is going to take great care of you."
You blinked at McCree who also wore a bright smile. He instructed you to get your things together while he went and signed the check out documents for you.
You felt an uneasy pang in your gut on the way to what McCree told you was your shared home.
"Bein' home should jog some memories for you, sweetheart," he said, pulling up to the driveway and parking the car. "Welcome home."
McCree helped you out of the car and into the house, dropping your bags by the front door and lifting you into his arms and into your bedroom.
"Anything look familiar to you?" he asked.
You shook your head and he gave you a tour of your home, asking if anything jogged your memory. After telling him that nothing looked familiar, he took you back to your room and laid you on the bed, telling you to get some sleep.
"You get some sleep and I'll be right here when you wake up," he said, placing a gentle kiss to your forehead.
Overwhelmed, you let your eyes close and you succumbed to sleep.
For years, McCree had been pining after you. The gorgeous agent who was popular, focused, talented and friendly. You were always surrounded by people who either wanted you or wanted to be you. Not that you knew that. McCree thought you were too soft; too naïve for your own good. He tried his best to get close to you and while you became very good friends, he never managed to get a date with you. You had gone on dates with other people but none of them had ever gone well. Unbeknownst to you, this was at the hands of the cowboy.
The accident during your latest mission was horrific and left you hospitalised for weeks. No one anticipated that you would lose your memory and while everyone thought it was sad, McCree thought it was one of the best things that could have happened to you.
"To us," he whispered, placing a soft kiss to your sleeping face.
#overwatch imagines#overwatch x reader#mccree x reader#jesse mccree x reader#red writes#overwatch fanfic#overwatch fic#overwatch fanfiction#yandere#yandere mccree
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Jesse knows this well and best believe he takes advantage, not wasting time to restrain your hands besides you or above you head around the edge of your orgasm, not caring if its only been a few minutes since he started railing into you Jesse just wants to see that cute lil face of yours turn flustered as you squirm beneath him trying to protest all the while moaning and gasping out for him, feeling yourself melt into the sheets as heat spreads through your veins, Mccrees eyes never once moving away from your blissful expression
Cooing at you for how cute your whimpers sound while caressing down from your hands he once restrained to tracing up and down your sides, adoring how easily overwhelmed you can get from the smallest things he does. Whats better than watching you cum once? Watching you cum again, multiple times until you cant take it anymore, fucked into a sweaty whimpering mess
Unless your quick to get on your knees to get him off with your soft lips do expect to be pounded into the bed until your a overstimulated disarray of begs and pleads, cum soaked thighs with scratches all over your hips from Mccrees grip
Jesse may not even last as long as he thinks he would due to how alluring the sounds you make are, so sensitive under every sensual touch he makes, it unravels him to the point where his thrusts start to sputter, getting weaker and closer to cumming the more you moan out his name calling out for mercy. Baby he couldnt enjoy the fact you cum so quickly just from simple touches from him alone more than he already does
#jesse mccree#jesse x reader#yandere jesse mccree#yandere mccree#mccree#overwatch mccree#mccree x reader#jesse mccree smut#overwatch x reader#overwatch headcanons#overwatch imagines#yandere overwatch#overwatch#overwatch smut#yandere#yandere x y/n#yandere x you#yandere x reader#yandere imagine#yandere imagines#yandere headcanons#yandere smut#yandere lemon#smut#lemon
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How is a domestic life with yandere dilf Jesse McCree (from the Trouble story au)
I’m so sorry… this ask has been invisible in my ask box for some reason?!?!? I haven’t seen it and I don’t know how long I made u wait so I’m gonna give u the best response I can make. It’s gonna be super detailed and everything~❤️❤️❤️
The reader wouldn’t be allowed to leave Jesse’s bedroom in the beginning. Jesse would have already “wife” proofed the room making every precaution to make sure there is no possible way for her to get hurt trying to run away. Windows would be nailed shut and all possible weapons would be kept out of reach.
Jesse would never let his “wife” out of his sight. He would keep everything that she needs away from her and force her to beg him to do everything for her. “Jesse… I really gotta use the bathroom…” And I can see Jesse smoking a cigar standing next to the window. He wouldn’t even look at her but he’d respond with a serious edge in his voice. “Now that’s no way to ask sweetheart.” Of course she would be take back at first, scrambling her mind for another way to ask but still saving her pride. “Can I use the bathroom…please?” She’d ask looking at the bedroom floor. Jesse would then smirk and walk to unlock the bathroom door. He’d stand in the doorway to watch of course…
Jesse definitely has the idea that he would have to “break” his “wife” like a person would do a horse. He’d want to get rid of all the fight she has in her and then make her depend on him. The bedroom she’s locked in wouldn’t have a tv or anything except for a bed and dresser. So his “wife” would mostly sleep to pass the time.
When Jesse is away for a long time, he’d lock her in the bathroom and leave a blanket and pillow in the shower. There wouldn’t be a mirror in the bathroom or anything under the sink.
After she begins to show signs of pregnancy (no baby bump yet tho), he’d begin feeding her more and giving her more attention. Jesse would begin sleeping in the same bed as her and start taking care of her appearance. He’d say misogynistic things like “A husband should be able to come home and see his wife in a nice dress~. I can see him standing behind her in the hallway mirror with his hands wrapped around her waist. He’d tell her exactly how he wants her hair and clothes kept. But… she’s not allowed to wear underwear, for easy access.
Jesse would sometimes go out for drinks, meaning that a few stray days out of the month he’d come home drunk. There will definitely be nights where Jesse wanders up the stairs looking for his “wife” for a little bit of relief.
A/N: (imma call the reader “you” now for a bit of added spice…)
You’d be asleep and then randomly have the sheets thrown off of your body and feel the weight of Jesse above you. Jesse would press into your shoulders and lay the side of his peacekeeper on your middle of your back and slur out “your gonna be real nice for me or you’re not gonna like what happens next…” You’d hear the buckle to his pants get thrown on the floor. Because he’s still drunk, his movements would be erratic and wild. Your hands would be covering your mouth to suppress any sounds as he’s forcing himself inside you. I can see calling his “wife” a bitch and saying dirty things in her ear that he wouldn’t say when he’s sober. Jesse would then fall asleep on top of you. Due to his time in Blackwatch, he’d be a super light sleeper so it would be best for you to try not to move or make any sounds.
When he’d wake up in the morning, he’d seem like a totally different person. He’d be cheerful but still holding you captive. His demeanor would be less of a killer and more like someone that wants to pretend that what he’s doing is normal. He’d be washing his face in the bathroom the next day like nothing happened the night before.
A/N: I hope you enjoyed this!!! And don’t forget that my ask box is open!!!
#jesse mccree x reader#overwatch mccree#tw noncon#tw kidnapping#cole cassidy#jesse x reader#x reader#f reader#yandere overwatch#yandere x reader#tw yandere
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Ah, Valentine’s Day!
A day filled with love confessions and gift giving, and by far the most yandere-potential.
Let's see how a few of our dear Yanderes decide to express their undying love for you on this romantic of days, shall we?
--
Reaper
💖Something thoughtful and from the heart, like a sweater he knitted for you himself
💖 He'd never admit to making it of course, just stands there, dead silent, with it folded neatly in his hands, waiting anxiously for you to accept it
💖 You'd really rather not, too unnerved by the fact that he somehow seemed to have already known your exact measurements, but you cave eventually, if only to get him to stop looming over you like a gargoyle
💖 You slip it on just to appease him, but he'll ghost away without some much as a comment. The sweater is a perfect fit (no surprise there) but there's a tightness in your chest because you swear you can still feel his eyes on you, watching you from somewhere you can't see
Mercy
💖 a free flu shot lol
💖 While she does care about your health, she has a much more romantic way of showing it
💖 I'm talkin candle lit baths with rose petals in the water, wine and chocolates, and all manner of sweet scented products to get your skin feeling baby-soft and your nerves nice and relaxed
💖 Of course, she had to slip you a lil something to get you in the bath in the first place, but what does that matter now! You're as calm as ever, all slumped against her, not fighting as she runs her hands across your body, so there's really no harm done. You're exactly where you're supposed to be
McCree
💖 I'm a firm believer that he's a practical gift giver, so his first instinct is going to be something he can do for you, like fix the leaky shower head in your house
💖 Although how he knew it as leaking in the first place, and how he managed to get into your house to fix it you aren't certain
💖 But it's safe to say he'll be waiting for you when you get home, already down to his drawers and ready to give you a firsthand demonstration of his handiwork
Genji
💖 A little scrapbook with photos and mementos of your first year together
💖 You recognize most of the pictures, remember him asking you to pose for them, but the further back you go the more unfamiliar they become
💖 Something's off about them, you can't quite figure out what, but you're always facing away from the camera
💖 It isn't until you reach one of the very last pages that you realize just what's made them so unnerving- they were taken long before you even met Genji, and far too many of them from inside your own house...
Brigitte
💖 Matching promise rings that she forged herself
💖 Etched on the outside of the shiny silver band are delicate and intricate patterns, and on the inside, words of her undying love
💖 She purposefully made it just a hair too tight for your ring finger so that once she slips it on for you, you're going to have a hell of a time ever getting it off again
Baptiste
💖 A Valentine's day brunch in a cute little bistro
💖 He'll get you anything and everything you want from the menu, which seems like a sweet gesture until he insists on feeding you each bite himself, even long after you claim to be full
💖 The look in his eyes as he offers you each spoonful sours any sweetness that might be on your tongue, especially when he flags down a waiter to order another helping just to take home
D.va
💖 An ever classic date out on the town
💖 She'll take you places like an arcade where she can show off and win you prizes and a sweet shop where you can get snacks to share, all while holding your hand throughout the whole night
💖 You'd think it would be the perfect opportunity to escape, being out in the open, but the grip she's got on you is so tight- manicured nails digging into your skin and nearly cutting off all circulation- that you wouldn't be able to get five feet away from her if you tried
#just a lil somethin ive been thinkin about#figured id make a post about it#happy vday everyone!#💖💖💖#yandere reaper#yandere reaper x reader#yandere gabriel reyes#yandere gabriel reyes x reader#yandere mercy#yandere mercy x reader#yandere jesse mccree#yandere jesse mccree x reader#yandere mccree#yandere mccree x reader#yandere genji#yandere genji x reader#yandere genji shimada#yandere genji shimada x reader#yandere brigitte lindholm#yandere brigitte lindholm x reader#yandere baptiste#yandere baptiste x reader#yandere d.va#yandere d.va x reader#yandere overwatch#yandere overwatch x reader#good lord thats a lot of tags
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The Reaper of the Opera Chapter 12: Into the Lair
*intense organ music plays in the background*
First Prev Final
“Please, let me go!” You cried to your captor.
Words falling short as he dragged you along. Eyes facing ahead while he lurked through the darkness. Smoke dancing across your dress, brushing against the material as if it caressed you. His grip on your wrist tightened, his gloves digging into your skin. Thankfully, he did not wear the sharper pair, otherwise he would make you bleed. But you knew he wasn’t worried about bruising your skin at the moment. Following the passageway he took you long ago into his home. Falling into the darkness once more as you feared. Struggling against his hold, you tried to halt his movements by the heel of your laced boots.
“Gabriel-“
Your shouts were silenced by the slip of the name. Roughly pinning you against the stone wall, red eyes drilling into yours. His teeth bared like a beast, towering over your form. The light of his torch showing you his features within the darkness. Reminded of what you had revealed before the opera company and what he kept so hidden.
“Don’t even say that name!” He barked at you. Seething from your actions, watching you try to resist, “I tried to give you mercy, as you did to me in the graveyard. But you have pushed your luck. If you will not take me into your light, then I shall drag you into the darkness.”
Pulling you upwards, he had enough of your squirming. Lifting you from the wall to carry onto his shoulder. Causing you the shriek and beat your fists against his backside. Ignoring your cries for help. Knowing the attendees from above had more to deal with on their end. He knew these caverns better than anyone, it’d be a miracle if anyone caught up to you two. Taking you further into the underground, into his hellish lair.
-
The fire began to spread further across the stage. Many had struggled to escape, tripping over everyone in sheer panic. The flames engulfing anything in sight as it did years ago. A fit of déjà vu between Ana and McCree. It was the older woman who made haste to the dancers, quick to help them escape alongside the stage handler. The managers and the other accompaniment already out the doors. Spotting Fareeha among the crowd, Ana hurried to her side. Pulling her close to check if she was alright. Receiving a tight embrace from the dancer. Discovering injured bodies of the yakuza scattered in various parts of the theatre. The flames quickly grew upon whatever they touched. Posters and lights engulfed in flames as the smoke hung in the air. The plan had miserably failed. History repeating itself to a once beautiful opera company.
“McCree! Madame Amari!” The two perked up from their name calls, the Shimada brothers hollering their names as they confronted them.
“We have to get out of here before the place falls on us.” Hanzo instructed, looking to his disheveled brother.
“The exit is just on the left here, come on,” McCree informed them, trying to guide Fareeha and Ana. Noticing immediately that Genji had yet to join, “Well what are you waiting for?”
“I have to go back for [Name].” He stated. Still determined to go after the Reaper for snatching you away. McCree looking exasperated as he pointed towards the fire.
“Pardon the heroic mission, but I don’t know if you notice that the whole fucking building is on fire. As much as I want to hunt down Reyes, there is no way we can find out where he is in time.” He stated.
“I know were he is hiding.” Everyone turned their gaze to Ana who had spoken. Fear no longer residing in the old woman. Genji approached the instructor with hope.
“Can you show me the way?” She nodded, beckoning Fareeha to go over to McCree. The stage handler skeptical of Anas words.
“How do I know you won’t turn your back on him?” Ana stared down the stage handler. Having enough of his speculation, pointing her slender finger to his face.
“Gabriel has taken this too far. I no longer see the man I once knew. The Gabriel I knew would’ve never wanted what what he cherished to be destroyed. He must pay for what he has done.” Fareeha’s concern evident to Ana’s promise..
“I’m coming with you mother!” Refusing to let anything befall her, she was ready to join the rescue mission. Her determination halted by Jesses hold on her. Willing to fight off McCrees hold, she could see that it wasn’t what Ana wanted. Ana’s gaze softening with a shake of her head.
“No, I will not let anymore of my family be taken. Look after my daughter Jesse. I’m counting on you.” McCree was reluctant on those words, unable to turn down her final wish.
Fareeha continued to struggle, repressed tears beginning to sting her eyes. Ana slowly backed away, leading Genji towards the flames. Hanzo couldn’t watch his brother try to return into the fire. The memories of his screams aching his mind. Unable to let him go, he grabbed his arm, stopping him from taking another step.
“Genji, I cannot let you act so foolishly!” Speaking his mind to his stubborn brother.
“That is not for you to decide. That monster took [Name] away! I am not going to run when she needs our help!” Trying to escape his brothers grip, Hanzo pulled him back with more force.
“She’s GONE Genji!” He snapped at him, unable to hold back his emotions any longer, “Even if you find her, the Reaper will kill you! Just let him have what he wants...”
“I CANNOT LOSE HER AGAIN!” Genji shouted, showing the tears that were beginning to fall from his eyes. Startling Hanzo for the second time in his life, “I abandoned her years ago! I wanted to go back to her, but then you tried to kill me! All because I wanted to follow my heart! For years I thought I could never deserve her. Unable to free myself from who we truly are. When we came back here, I promised that I would protect her. I’m sorry brother, I cannot let her go…I love her…”
Hanzo was taken back by his words. The guilt of his actions now revealed to the rest of the group. Avoiding their surprised gaze on him. Balling his hands into fists, he knew he couldn’t interfere with his brothers wishes. Even if it meant losing him again as well. Letting out a shaky exhale, he looked back at Genji with a stern expression.
“You better come back with her…” He said, suddenly taken into an exceedingly rare embrace. Unsure of what to do, he was left to feel the faint sigh escaping his brother. Uncertainty drifted when Genji pulled away from his form. Placing his hands on either side of his arms with a smile.
“I will.” Letting him go, he hurried back over to Anas side. Hanzo watched the two make haste. Allowing that trust himself to finally trust his brothers actions. Taking one final breath before heading for the escape route with the others.
-
Returning to his lair, he had stepped out of the boat, pulling you in as you continued to struggle. Having enough of your resistance, he tossed you onto the bed. Discarding of his coat and guns, he shook his head in frustration. Everything had gone wrong, just when he thought his dreams would come true. Just in his moments of giving you his heart, you decided to reveal his outward appearance to the world. Storming towards his sheet music, he grabbed his constructed work together. Casting it aside with a snarl. Knocking over a few things like a child having a tantrum. His eyes on you when a yelp escaped your lips.
What he had feared most was right before him. Seeing your eyes wide at his appearance. Trembling in terror from his fury. The looks that were seen once before by Jack and Ana. The horror he had in his eyes when he looked to the mirror. His wrath being the only thing to make his heart stone cold. Stalking back towards you, he gripped your wrists once more. Watching you shake as his dark irises looked upon you.
“All I wanted was for you is to accept me,” he hissed. His teeth grinding roughly at how much he scowled. Watching your breath quicken by the closeness of your forms, “I wanted you to see me not as this thing, but what I am beneath. I wanted you to love me. [Name]…[Name] why did you do this!?”
You shook your head at his question, making him angrier at your silence. Releasing you from his clutches, he stepped back to run his fingers through his hair. Trying to set his plan into the next course of action. He reached for his shotgun, eyeing the intricate design. Signs of death that he had made especially for a monster like him. Facing you once more, he pointed the gun towards your petrified form.
“Like it or not, you will be mine. Even if I have to force you to say it.” He moved towards a chest in his cavern. Opening it to reveal a white haltered dress with black petals along the trimming. A mermaid shaped style to hug your body. A matching veil, covered in black roses rested close by. Watching you slowly process what his plan was. Grinning when your eyes widened at the realization, “I intended for you to marry me by the end of the performance. Too bad you had to interrupt the show. You will become my wife one way or another.”
-
Genji followed suit to Anas guidance. Both of them quick on their heels down a forbidden passageway. Watching her carefully move across the stone floor. He was unsure as to how long she knew of these tunnels. Knowing how long Reaper had taken her hostage, she must’ve been forced down here like you.
Ana halted herself at the very edge to an open cavern. He looked to see her lift her black dress, guiding her foot to a particular stone and pressing down. Hearing the stones against the ridge pulling out to reveal a staircase. Leaning over to observe the steps coming out of the wall. Surprised by the secret, he began to take the first step. Realizing that she made no effort to follow or lead. Gazing up to her, seeing the grimace in her eye.
“I am afraid this is as far as I can take you.” She explained, having Genji worry for her safety. Assuring there was no need of her presence, she shook her head, “I will be fine, go before it’s too late.”
“…Thank you.” He spoke softly, looking down the staircase as he made his descent.
-
He forced you to wear the dress. Held at gun point with no use resisting. Pulled into his sickening game with no denial. Even going as far as giving you the privacy by not looking. To uphold the never looking at your bride before the wedding. You knew that it was pointless, given that he may simply tear the dress apart and fuck you against the bed sheets. His lust had overpowered his rationality. Truly falling mad to his situation.
It was disturbing how much he knew your sizes so perfectly. The dress fitting you with no sign of error. Then again, you could no longer hide yourself from him anymore. He wanted you, now he had every urge to claim you. Leaving you helpless as his captive bride. You could no longer take being someone’s prisoner. Stepping out of your changing spot, wearing his gown as instructed. You couldn’t help but frown with his back turned to you. Wishing you had the strength to overpower him. Only able to use your voice to call to him.
“Are you satisfied? For how many you have harmed to please your desires?” He turned to you, red eyes feasting upon your figure as you tried to make yourself be heard, “Now, you want to use me for your lust of flesh?”
“Oh, I will be satisfied. I have every intention of perfecting my beautiful bride,” He growled, facing you completely. The gun remaining at his side. Holding his hand out to you, “Simply magnificent. I envy how much you can look so radiant. Even if when you look at me like that, your fire sings to me.”
“You’re sick. I will never sing for you.” You spat, watching him step closer to you.
“Give it time my dear, let me just savour you just a little bit longer,” Watching you tighten your fists, your face no longer fearless upon his look. Touching his caved in features with his glove, “You might be thinking: how can I survive such a horrid incident? Leaving myself to rot here for eternity? I always claimed it as a curse, to repay for all of the dirty deeds that I have done. Gods cruel hand taking what meant the most to me. It’s a poison, intoxicating the memory of who I once was. You have no idea how much I yearned for such simple desires. The ability to taste, to feel, to be loved.”
He tried to reach for your jawline, to caress it as he did once before. You swiftly looked away from his affectionate actions, denying him any source of your touch. Closing your eyes to blind yourself from the scowl that formed on Reapers face. Pulling you by the arm, he forced you to look at him with his gun pressed to your side.
“I wonder, why you do not look at me the way you look at that boy? My body just as corrupted as his own. Although, I can say for certain my hands are clean,” Looking into his eyes, he hummed at your sudden ignorance, “Ah, you never did know what that family had been known for. He must’ve told you as to why he ran away like a coward. An older brother disciplining his sibling for trying to escape his duties. The Shimadas are assassins. They kill to get paid. Their money is tainted in blood. Every single one of them has done so. You say he should never kill for you. But you knew he intended to kill me.”
“That’s not true…” You called his bluff, whimpering as he held your chin.
“Am I? I merely incapacitate my victims, not wish for their timely death. You can’t deny the look he had in the graveyard. I wouldn’t be here if you hadn’t interfered.” Your eyes lowered, remembering the sight of envy and bitterness when you let Reaper escape. Flinching as he brushed his thumb against your cheek.
“Tell me, is being with an assassin safer than being with me? Just a man searching for love. An artist lost in his work. A soul who was abandoned by the ones he cherished most?” Not seeking an answer, he let you go to grab the veil you left behind. To complete his image once and for all, “No matter, I no longer care for your pity. Your fate with me has always been certain the moment I found you. An eternity with me is nothing short of a suitable punishment.”
He backed away when he settled the veil before you. Taking in his work with a satisfied hum. Finding yourself looking into the shattered mirror. Seeing multiple sets of your discouraged face matching his pleased one. Everything as he wanted, and it felt so wrong. Shaking your head, you stepped back from him with a frown.
“I love Genji because he learned to forgive. He no longer holds the rage that he once concealed long ago. He did what he had to because he was forced to. Genji moved on from his tragedy and became a better man for it,” Shaking your head, you pulled the veil from your head, not caring about the displeased look from your captor. Dropping the delicate piece to the floor, “I am no longer afraid of what you look like, nor do I take pity of what has happened to you. It’s your soul in which that distortion lies. You attack for fun; you manipulate and destroy those that loved you. It’s like you said, you are no longer Gabriel Reyes, you are the Reaper. You are nothing but a monster!”
He grimaced at your words. The reflection truly showing what he had succumbed to. The man he started as was long longer with him. The photos beneath his feet were torn up pictures of him, Jack and Ana. Even some that he shared with McCree, who was like a son to him. He threw it away, now he was paying the price. Snapping out of his thoughts, he heard the water moving against the rocks. Lifting his gaze to what was behind you. Seeing that Genji had made his way into the cavern. Arriving at the gate to see you and him together. The menacing look appeared before his features. Chuckling deeply at the situation.
“Oh, my dear, I believe we have a guest.” He tilted his head to the direction of the entrance. You spun around to see Genji gripping the gates bars. Your heart sinking to see your beloved.
“Genji!” Your movement halted by the grasp of Reaper. Screaming as he pulled you to his side, the gun now pressed against your head. Struggling against his maddening laughter.
“Oh what a delight, to think I was worried we would not have a witness for our bond,” He confessed, letting him struggle against the gates, “what a magnificent night this turned out to be.”
“FREE HER!” Genji demanded, pulling out his blade as a warning. A delighted hum escaping your captor by his bravery.
“Your lover makes such a passionate plea. Why should I listen to a brat like you?” He hissed into your ear. You winced, crying out to him in Reapers grasp.
“Genji please, he won’t let me go!” Genji attempted to break open the gate with his blade, finding no use with the bars being made of iron.
“You damn bastard, I love her! Does that mean nothing to you?” Slamming his fist against the gate in his struggle.
“Get in line, Sparrow. She belongs to me!” Reaper snarked, denying Genji any chance on getting close.
“Let me see her at least. For Gods sake, show some compassion!” Reapers grip on you tightened at the Shimadas words.
“THE WORLD SHOWED NO COMPASSION TO ME!” Reaper roared at the thought of that dreadful word.
Only knowing of hate and anger from his peers. Even to the moments before the incident, people turned his back to him. Your whimpers at the sudden shout caught his attention. Watching as he looked down to you. Tears staining your cheeks from his fury. Tugging at his shirt as he saw you beg with your gaze.
“Please, let me see him.” Your voice soft in your weeping.
A voice that seeped into his darkened heart. His crimson eyes leering at your expression. Unable to resist the words of his soon to be bride. Releasing you to the ground, you collapsed to the ground out of weakness. Walking towards the lever by the boat, eyeing Genji in case he pulled any tricks. Resting the gun against his shoulder, grabbing the lever with a sneer.
“Very well…be my guest, sir.” He huffed, letting the gates rise before them.
Allowing him to step in quickly. Treading through the water before he reached the rocky shore. Rushing to your side immediately, pulling you into a protective embrace. Despite how drenched his form was, you held onto him like your life depended on it. Sobbing quietly into the man you never thought you’d see again. Genji cupped your cheeks, looking into your eyes with his own.
“You came back for me…” You mumbled, a hopeful smile forming on your lips. Genji smiled in return, brushing his thumb against your cheek.
“I said I would…I won’t ever leave you again, [Name].” He vowed. Placing your hands over his at such a delicate moment. The two of you were interrupted by the sound of Reaper clapping. Slow and intimidating while he walked around the two of you. Your body flinching from his growls.
“My good sir, did you think that I would harm her? Why would I dare make her pay for your own sins?” He growled, spotting Genjis blade that he had dropped when he went after you.
Leaving his opponent unarmed and free for the taking. Using the foolish mistake for his advantage, he kicked away the blade into the water. Letting Genjis startled reaction distract him from Reaper yanking him away from you. Crying out to Genji, trying to reach for him as he was taken from you. Reaper threw him against the stone wall with complete force. The impact leaving Genji in a stricken shock of pain. A curse escaped Genji, only to find himself pinned against the stone wall by Reapers arm. His forearm pressed against his neck, cutting the air circulation from his lungs. Clawing furiously against the mighty grip. His squirming ceased by the cold touch of a weapon against his scarred cheekbones. Gun pressed against his temple as he found no way to escape.
“No!” You screamed, watching Reaper prepared to pull the trigger. His laughter mocking the wiggling form of Genji. His rival now defenseless as he was in the graveyard.
“Should’ve paid closer attention. Nothing can save you now! Except perhaps,” His red eyes now turned to you, a plot forming in his mind on the situation at hand. Adjust his grip on the gun, he made certain you know that fate was falling into your hands, “[Name], start a new life with me. Buy his freedom with your love. Refuse me, and you send your beloved to his death. THIS is the choice. THIS is the point of no return!”
To be continued
#Overwatch#overwatch x reader#overwatch scenarios#overwatch imagines#overwatch au#Reaper#reaper x reader#phantom!reaper#gabriel reyes#gabriel reyes x reader#genji#genji shimada#genji shimada x reader#only a Shimada can control these tags#ana amari#jesse mccree#pharah#hanzo#hanzo shimada#phantom was the og yandere dont @ me
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Blackwatch Valentine (One Shot)
[Hello My Sexy Readers, Love is in the air and here is a Valentine Day Special with The Male Black and yes that Includes Genderbent Moira x male reader, this was requested off of Wattpad By: lionlyon I hope you all enjoy this chapter here with the blackwatch Bois~]
(Name's POV)
I worked with Overwatch as a cadet, unlike Blackwatch who does not do cadets and goes straight into recruits. My name is (Name) (Last Name) I am a male who worked hard to be here. But now I am feeling like I am being watched. It all started when I had to drop off some files for my Commander Jack Morrison. I did not like the idea of being alone with Commander Reyes, so I had went when he was having a Blackwatch meeting with Genji, Jesse, and Moiro. They all had stared at me and my alerts were on. Since then I have not felt safe going over to the Blackwatch side.
Even in the Strike team side I felt like I was being watched like a hawk it did not make me feel safe and sound. Now here I am again dropping off files to Commander Reyes. This time I avoided going when they were in a meeting and instead when they were at lunch. I made it to his office and dropped off the files and then went to leave when I was suddenly pinned to the wall.
"You been avoiding me, Cariño." He tells me.
(Sweetie) (Am using google translate so some may be off)
"What are you talking about commander!?" I ask shocked.
"Don't play clueless." He says and starts to kiss down my neck. "You know it is Valentine's day soon~ There is so much I want to do with you~"
Suddenly realization hit me like a ton of bricks. "Commander... I am sorry but I-I cannot I am seeing someone." I say and push him off.
And I knew I was only able to push him off because he let me.
"Who is the someone?" He asks, no more like demanded.
I pale I could not tell him who it was. He could destroy him. "Th-That is none of your business." I say and run off.
-Later On That Day-
I made it to the training grounds and saw I was the only one here, I was grateful for that and started up on stretching first. But then the feeling of being watched came back and suddenly I was pinned to the mat and held firmly.
"Hello Blossom, you think you can just run off with another someone." A familiar voice says, it was Genji Shimada. "We have to admit this secret relationship you have with this unknown person is very top secret to you, but be warned, we are very patient and we will find out. You can count on that."
With that everything went black.
-Time Skip, Brought to you By: Genji in front of the fireplace eating chocolate cover strawberries-
I woke up in my room tucked in with care, but something was off. I looked at my standard desk and saw that there is a lot of flowers, candies, and more on my desk. I walk over and look at them. They were from Genji, Moiro (Male Moira), Jesse, and Gabriel. I was shocked. They were serious, I started to panic and decided to throw all the gifts away and items away. After that I realize it is morning and I made it to the mess hale. Where I was grabbed by Moiro. I paled slightly and backed up.
"Hi. I just got to go t-"
"Your table oh no you are going to sit with us." He says.
"Us?" I ask as he leads me over to the Blackwatch table.
"Look who I found hopping around." He says. "Our dear, Coinin." (Bunny)
"I am not any of yours." I say. "If you do not mind I need to eat then go to the shooting range."
"You can eat with us and then I will escort you to the shooting range, Darling." Jesse says and glares at him I am not his darling.
I did not want to make a scene so I eat and then leave with Jesse. He said he was going help me on my aim. That lead me to being held by him and his arms wrapped around me. I am a blushing mess as he guides my hands and gun. I could not focus. I then felt him kiss my neck and I elbow him in the gut and put my gun on him.
"Back the fuck off Mccree!" I say gun raised.
He held his hands up but his smirk never left his face as I quickly backed out of the shooting range. I made it back to my room. I have the next few days off with my boyfriend and I won't have to worry about them again until I get back. And then I am reporting them to Commander Morrison. But that can wait I am looking forward to some relaxation with my boyfriend.
-Time Skip, Brought to you by: Jesse Mccree, being your sexy shirtless Huckleberry-
(No One's POV)
(Name) made it to his boyfriend's home and something was not right, all the lights were out. That is when (Name) came in and was grabbed suddenly. He screamed into the hand covering his mouth and the lights were on. That is when he saw his boyfriend beaten, bloody. And Moiro, Genji and Gabriel standing there with crazed looks on their faces. They did this, because they loved (Name) and knew this was the only way.
"We planted enough dirt on your boyfriend to get him the death sentence, if you want to avoid that you will be ours and join Blackwatch."
He had tears in his eyes but he nodded and that is when they all took turns kissing him. They had him now and they were never ever letting him go.
-Time Skip, Brought to you by: Blackmail from the sexy Moiro-
(Gabriel's POV)
Now (Name) is all ours, I spent my time with him on Valentine day in bed with him, holding him close and massaging all the aches out of his body. He was so stressed but he is all mine now and I will take care of him.
(Moiro's POV)
I had spent my Valentine turn with our love giving him and intimate physical. I love how he got so hard and I sucked him off. I knew he would taste just as sweet as chocolate. All mine~
(Genji's POV)
When it was my turn with Blossom I knew that he would be not wanting to spend time with me. So I just spent the time with him in my lap as we mediate. A firm grip on him so he could never ever leave. I loved the feeling of him pressed to myself.
(Jesse's POV)
My turn was last but it was worth it. I had taken him to bed and laid with him. I was able to sleep with him in my arms and knew that this is the first night of many and that I do not need to rush. I will be able to take his cherry pie all I like very soon~ He is ours~
[WOOOOOOOO First Valentine Special done! I hope you all enjoyed this chapter and stay sexy all my friends!]
#yandere#yandere blackwatch#yandere overwatch#yandere genji shimada#yandere genji#yandere jesse mccree#yandere moira#genderbent moira#male moira#yandere genderbent#yandere gabriel reyes#blackwatch#gabriel reyes#gabriel reyes x reader#jesse mccree#jesse mccree x reader#moira#moira x reader#genji x reader#genji shimada#valetine#yandere valentine's day#valentines day#valentine day 2020#Overwatch#overwatch valentine#yandere oneshot#one shot
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