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Humanity In Domesticity

Chapter Text

There were many nights where you slept in a bed that was far too big for just one person. It was something you had come to expect as an inevitability. Your boys were part of Overwatch now, and they were constantly being sent on missions to better the world, something a far cry off from their previous life of crime, but much more preferable to having so many on their back. Still, it didn’t make those lonely nights any easier, nor did it help you sleep any better.

You sighed as you readied yourself for another restless night of tossing and turning, going through your routine of fixing up the sheets despite knowing it was a futile effort. You considered pulling up the blanket, but decided against it. Normally, you slept just fine without it. Then again, you had been spoiled by the warmth your significant others emitted and hardly ever needed a blanket.

With a few slow blinks to clear your bleary vision, you looked over at the digital clock on the bedside table, the red numbers showing it was two in the morning. A bit early for bed, considering you would be up most likely for another few hours, as it was, but you were tired and aching for a decent night’s sleep. Maybe if you were to lie down for a bit, get comfortable, then your mind would finally shut down and allow you the rest you desperately craved.

Heh, yeah right.

Two weeks of this was really starting to wear you down. It wouldn’t have been so bad, this weird bout of insomnia, if Junkrat and Roadhog had made it home in the five-day timespan their current mission had been placed in. Unfortunately, there had been some complications, and five days had turned into two weeks, possibly three, if things continued to escalate.

Things were made worse when you found out ‘Rat had somehow blown up his phone, again, meaning you had no contact with them directly for the remainder of their time away. Your last conversation with the dangerous duo had been a few quick words with the sound of gunfire and explosions in the background, and Junkrat giving a manic giggle before promising to call again soon.

That was three days ago. Lúcio was kind enough to send you a text earlier that morning, letting you know your boys were doing just fine. You appreciated him keeping you in the loop; he was a very good friend.

Sighing once more, you climbed into bed, shifting yourself to the middle as you always did, and pulled the thin sheet over you before laying down. It was dark and cool in the room, just how you preferred it. It was enough to ease you a bit more into a relaxed state, but your mind continued to race and wander, ultimately keeping you just on the verge of falling off the edge into the land of dreams.

Were Junkrat’s prosthetics holding up this time around? Had Roadhog made sure to keep them both hydrated? Were they at least keeping themselves out of immediate trouble? It was stupid, silly questions like that and scenarios that ran through your head in rapid-fire succession. You sure did worry too much over two grown men who had been through hell and back on countless occasions.

The glare of the clock numbers illuminated the room more prominently as your heavy-lidded eyes became accustomed to the darkness, but you ignored it. You weren’t sure how long you just laid there, breaths even, mind reeling, your attempts at sleeping being sabotaged by your own thoughts. It was long enough that you were starting to hear things in the background, mumbled chatter of some sort growing louder and louder….

You jumped up as the bedroom door banged open, dim light flooding the room and just barely illuminating the two towering figures taking up the door frame. The noise had startled you, yes, but you couldn’t keep from smiling as the lankier figure moved forward and into the room.

Your boys were home.

A low growl emitted from Roadhog as Junkrat carelessly began stripping off his bombs and other weapons or tinkering bits with a comfortable, practiced ease. To anyone else, the sound coming from the massive man stood at the door would have been terrifying. You, however, recognized it for what it was, a warning to Junkrat, a reprimand. It was enough to make the lithe man hesitate in his movements as he glanced at you, then back at the larger man now making his way into the room.

“Wha? Oh, right, right, right, gotcha,” he said, his movements resuming and the massive thud of his Riptire falling from his back and to the floor a moment later. This earned him another growl, another reprimand to his loud actions.

“Look, ya great lug, she’s already awake. It’s not like I’m making it any worse, now is it?”

A small string of giggles followed from the noisy man as Roadhog closed the door, the room plunging back into the comforting darkness of nighttime. He gave a grunt, an affirmation that yes, you were clearly awake, but he wasn’t particularly happy about it, nor did it mean ‘Rat had to be so loud and make things worse.

“Oi, it wasn’t me fault this time!”

Junkrat was apparently in the mood for some arguing and began to rant. You could hear ‘Hog’s careful movements to your right as he removed his weapons with careful consideration in the dark. He would give short grunts to the thinner man as he continues to rant, and you could tell the exact moment when he removed his mask, something he didn’t do often.

The noises and ‘Rat’s loud voice didn’t bother you, however. In fact, it was a welcoming sound, a sign that things were good, that your home was full again. They were noises that comforted you greatly, made your reeling mind come to a halt and fill with the sounds of familiarity.

You’d been so caught up in the absolute serenity of the moment, you hadn’t realized you were being as quiet as a mouse until you felt a large, warm hand envelope your knee, Roadhog’s way of grabbing your attention. The motion was followed by Junkrat’s curious tone to your left.

“You good, sheila?”

“Yeah, I’m…I’m just happy you’re both home.”

You cringed at the sound of your voice. It had come out low and worn, cracking slightly with each word. It was a testament to how tired you really were, how long you’d gone without proper rest. Roadhog gave a low grumble, obviously picking up on it.

“Right, not been sleeping, eh? Guess it’s good we got back when we did, yeah Roadie?”

A deep, clear hum was given as his answer, followed by twin points of pressure on either side of you as both men climbed into bed. Well, Junkrat’s way of getting into bed was more like throwing himself on top of it. Roadhog was a bit more careful with his approach, hunkering down and finding a comfortable position on his side.

You gave a startled gasp when large hands grabbed you and pulled you down to a laying position soon after. Roadhog then proceeded to manhandle you somewhat until he had your back pressed against his front, the warm curve of his belly sending a delightful heat through your cotton shirt. His meaty hand came to rest against your hip, fingers gently curling over the jut of it and keeping you comfortably pressed against him as he relaxed fully into the mattress. He then gave a grunt, a signal for ‘Rat to hurry up and get comfortable.

“No need to be pushy, mate,” he said with a giggle, scooting closer to you. You encouraged the movement by grabbing at him, of which had him laughing all over again. When he finally settled, it was with your right arm slung over his chest, his flesh hand finding yours to lazily lace your fingers together. His peg leg had moved further out and hooked behind one of your knees, the metal surprisingly warm, even through the sheet now strangely wound around your body.

The positioning was a bit awkward, but it was warm and perfect, nonetheless.

“So, how was th’ mission,” you mumbled out a couple minutes later, giving a wide yawn. It was funny how, before, you couldn’t even fathom sleeping until the possible rise of the sun. Now, you couldn’t seem to keep your eyes open.

“Better get some shut-eye, first. Hog’ll have me head if I keep yappin’ and keeping you awake.”

“But…you jus’ got here,” you grumbled, squeezing ‘Rat’s hand gently to show your dissatisfaction. Roadhog let out a short rumble as he gave your hip a light squeeze, an actual agreement to Junkrat’s insistence.

“Sleep,” his deep, unfiltered voice spoke out, the sound a comfort to your ears. You gave a small huff, but you were already falling faster and faster into that comforting darkness of slumber of which had eluded you for too many nights.

In the morning, you would awaken cuddled into Roadhog’s body while Junkrat would have, somehow, managed to tangle both legs with yours while his upper half would be flaked out on ‘Hog’s big belly. You would marvel at the strange turn of sleeping positions, as you always did, and you would sigh and fall back asleep peacefully with the biggest smile plastered on your face.

For now, though, you were surrounded by their comforting warmth and gentle touches, content knowing your boys were back home with you.

Chapter Text

This was it.

You had been entertaining the notion for quite some time, contemplating if you were really ready for this, if all three of you were ready for this. After all, the boys did lead pretty hectic lives, and you didn't want to bog them down with any extra baggage if things were to get dangerous. But it seemed like the right time, you rationalized, to take the next step in your relationship.

So, today was the day. You were going to do it.

You were going to adopt a pet.

Well, you were going to try to adopt a pet. It was easier said than done, however, as you all three had different ideas about what animal would be best suited to withstand all the mayhem that went on around the house.

For one, it would definitely have to be something you could tolerate, as you would be stuck at home with the little rascal when the boys were away on missions. Junkrat needed a pet that would keep him entertained, while Roadhog needed a soft, sweet animal that he could hold and pet. In the end, you all needed a little companion to keep your minds occupied when things became too much.

It didn’t seem like too many demands, but there were definitely conflicts of interest as far as what animal was right for your household.

“Hey, look at this one, mate!”

You turned away from the mewling kittens you’d been looking over to find Junkrat excitedly pointing out a very colorful parrot to Roadhog. The larger man didn’t seem all that interested in the bird, really, but he humored his partner and watched as ‘Rat harassed the poor thing with glee, clapping and letting loose giggles when it squawked at him.

You watched him for just a moment, laughing lightly at the ridiculous faces he was making at the poor bird, who continued to squawk and flap its wings at the thin man. When one of the workers began approaching with a distressed expression, you quickly intervened and pulled Junkrat away to look at something else, giving an apologetic smile to the now relieved employee.

The last thing you needed was to get kicked out of another animal shelter because of ‘Rat’s enthusiasm, or the employees’ unnecessary, though understandable, fear of the Junkers. Hell, the last shelter some few towns away had actually recognized them as the criminals they were, and…well, that was definitely a wild ride you had never expected to be on.

So far, the employees here had been rather patient with you and didn’t seem all that phased by your towering partners, of which you were thankful for.

“Alright, you, let’s go have a look at the dogs.”

“C’mon, lovey, dogs are boring! Let’s get something more exciting!”

“Dogs aren’t boring! They’re very loving, loyal animals. Besides, I don’t think ‘Hog likes your idea of a bird for a pet.”

“The big guy’ll come around,” he insisted with a pout, turning to eye the parrot he’d been pestering, a wicked gleam in his eyes. You gave his hand a sharp tug to pull his attention back on you.

“We’re not getting a parrot. I’ll be left at home with it, more often than not, and it’ll drive me up the wall.”

“Can’t have that, then. That job’s reserved for me and ‘Hog, only,” he said, brows waggling as a suggestive grin lit his face. You shushed him with an embarrassed giggle and a small swat to his arm, of which only succeeded in him winding his gangly limbs around you from behind and pulling you flush against him. He was positively shameless.

“Behave, ‘Rat! We still have to figure out if we’re adopting anything.”

“Nothing here is interesting enough! Roadie’s partial to them piggy-thingos over there, but all they do is run around and squeal.”

“Piggy-thingos?” you questioned, turning as best you could with Junkrat wrapped around you to find Roadhog at one of the open cases in the center, fingers lightly curling over the glass sides as he looked within. You shuffled over, complaining only lightly that ‘Rat refused to release you, and peered inside to find four fluffy balls of fur running around.

“Oh! Guinea pigs! How cute!”

Roadhog gave a short hum in agreement as you watched the grunting little creatures move around. After a moment, you wiggled a bit in Junkrat’s hold until his arms collected at your waist, then reached within the case and pulled out one of the lighter colored ones. It let out a short, surprised squeak until you had it settled in your grasp, its nose twitching excitedly. You then looked up at the larger man, who was watching you closely.

“Hold out your hand for me,” you urged, Roadhog complying easily and revealing his open palm to you. You then gently placed the animal in his grasp. Instantly, his fingers lifted just slightly to cradle the guinea pig as his other hand came up to pet the little creature. He may have had his mask on, but you could tell he was thrilled.

“Great, now you’ve gone and done it,” Junkrat grumbled in your ear as he rested his chin on your shoulder. You rolled your eyes as he pouted.

“We’re not getting one,” you placated the sulking blond, “but it doesn’t mean we can’t indulge in holding the little cutie. Besides, we agreed on finding a pet that we would all like, right, ‘Hog?”

Roadhog paused in his stroke down the guinea pig’s back, looking down at you once more. He held your gaze for just a moment before giving a small, gruff sound, petting the little animal a few more times before carefully putting it back with its fellow guinea pigs in the case.

You smiled and moved closer to the bulky man, teasingly slipping your hand into his. Whereas Junkrat couldn’t care less about who saw his public displays of affection, Roadhog was a bit more reserved, choosing to show his affection more privately. It wasn’t out of fear or shyness, but more that he was a rather private person that would rather show his attention when and where he felt most comfortable. Nevertheless, he wrapped his massive hand around yours, his palm rough and warm against your skin. It made your smile even wider.

Junkrat piped in then with, “So, what are we getting, lovey?”

You sighed, giving the adoption center another once-over. There were so many nice animals that needed a home, but it didn’t seem any of them met the cut of what your trio wanted and needed in a pet. You were so hoping to find something today.

“Um…e-excuse me, I-”

Your attention turned to the timid voice of one of the employees who had come up beside you, a sweet little brunette girl who barely looked old enough to be working. She paused in her talking once all eyes were on her, her own gaze widening at the attention. You thought, for a moment, she was frightened, and you worried your boys would scare her off, but a shaky smile and a little exhale told you it was more her own nerves getting the better of her.

“I’m sorry, I just thought…it looked like you were having trouble deciding on what animal to adopt, and I thought…well, we all thought, really, that you might be interested in one of our special cases?”

“Special cases?” you questioned curiously, earning a vigorous nod from the brunette. She then motioned for you to follow her as she made her way to the back area. Junkrat and Roadhog seemed a bit hesitant to follow, both tightening their individual hold on you, and you could only imagine what they were both thinking, what they may have walked into doing the same exact thing when on a mission. The smiles and enthusiastic nods of the other employees were encouragement enough for you to wiggle from their grasp to follow the brunette, however, and the Junkers were close behind.

The back room held a few kennels and cages where some animals not yet suitable to adopt were currently being kept, whether from being sick or newly acquired, it didn’t matter. They looked healthy enough or on the road to recovery, each kennel kept rather clean and stocked with water and proper bedding.

The brunette motioned for you to stop at a table set in the middle of the room as she moved to one of the kennels, unlatching the spring lock and opening the door before carefully reaching inside. When she turned with the animal in-hand, you were pleasantly surprised.

“We don’t have a name for this little one yet,” she said, placing the fluffy creature on the table, “but she’s a gray fox. They found her when she was only a few weeks old, either separated or abandoned from the mother, no one’s sure. But she was injured pretty badly.”

She turned the little kit to the side as best she could, what with the little one attempting to sniff out your little group, revealing the stump of her back right leg. Junkrat peered closer with intrigue, studying what was left of the fox’s limb.

“Amputation, was it?”

“Unfortunately,” the brunette said, a sad smile gracing her features. “They tried to save the leg, but there was too much damage, and infection had set in to the point that taking the limb was more viable than possibly having the infection spread. Didn’t stop this girl’s spirit, though. She’s fully healed and can move around just fine.”

She ran her fingers through the salt and pepper-like fur of the fox kit, earning a happy little whine as she continued the motions. You were quickly falling in love with the little thing, and Junkrat’s interest looked to be piqued, as well.

“How old is she now?” you questioned.

“About six months or so. Sweet as can be, very loving. Also a bit mischievous, and that will get worse in the coming months. But if you can handle that, I feel like she might be just what you’re looking for.”

You glanced over at ‘Rat, who looked rather excited, nearly bouncing in his place as if ready to snatched up the animal and run. You then looked up at Roadhog, though you couldn’t quite place how he was feeling about the fox. His stare was intensely dedicated to the sweet little creature, though, and that was a good sign.

“What do you think, Roadie?”

He was quiet for a long time after your question, so long that Junkrat finally couldn’t stand it and finally reached over to pet on the fox. She seemed a bit timid at first, but a good snuffle of ‘Rat’s hand and a few nice scritches along her neck and ears from him, and she was enjoying the attention.

“Roxie,” ‘Hog said suddenly, causing you to look back up at the masked man, who was looking down at you. “Name her Roxie.”

“There’s a bloody good name,” Junkrat agreed with a wide grin, pulling away for a moment from the fox. She apparently enjoyed his scratching, because she gave a yip and nipped at his hand playfully, of which had the man bursting into gleeful giggles.

“I think Roxie is a lovely name,” the brunette added, smile bright as she watched Junkrat’s exchange with the little fox, of which was really starting to warm up to the man. You couldn’t help but smile, too, feeling a loving, warm tingle inside your chest.

“Roxie is perfect.”

Chapter Text

In moments where you were a frantic, forgetful mess, you were thankful for Roadhog’s rather excellent memory.

Your mother was the head of a large corporate business, one that prided itself on strict ruling of how their technology was used, and limiting only trusted businesses and partnering offices to use it. It was a thriving corporation, despite all the greed and hate and evil rising in the world, and your mother was nothing but exact on how it was managed.

She’d been teaching you the ropes since your younger years, but despite all the talking and demonstrating, all the teaching and insisting you learn how the business worked, you just had no interest in it. Still, she continued to keep you a big part of what she did, and you found yourself helping her out on more than one occasion.

Which is why you were a flustered mess at the moment, running around your shared bedroom trying to find the things you needed for that night. Roadhog was following you at a much calmer pace, helping you gather things you thought had been misplaced but were actually right in front of you.

“Roadie, have you seen my- oh!”

You turned and stood straight from your hunched position by the closet to find Roadhog directly behind you, holding up one of the black strappy heels you’d been looking for. Where on earth he had managed to find it, you weren’t sure, but you were grateful, anyhow.

“Thank you,” you said, taking the shoe and placing it on the bed with the other. With your outfit for the evening finally in order and laid out before you neatly, you rushed into the bathroom to fix your hair and eye makeup.

There was a big company event happening, one that your mother had sprung on you last-minute with an invite. You were apprehensive and generally just didn’t want to go, giving the excuse that your boys had just gotten back home, but she had insisted you come, even so far as suggesting you bring your partners along. You couldn’t even fit all the reasons why that was a bad idea on the front and back of a piece of paper, even if it was in fine print.

Begrudgingly, you accepted the invite, of which delighted her to no end. She told you to be ready by seven, as she would have a company car come by to get you then. By the time you were off the phone, it was already four, and you were in an absolute panic of figuring out what you were going to wear.

The news of you going out for the evening had not gone over well with Junkrat, who had been keen on spending some “quality time” with you and ‘Hog. He’d gone through several steps to try and get you to stay home, even going so far as jumping into the shower with you in an attempt to distract you. It only succeeded in distracting him long enough for you to wash yourself as well as him, the outcome being a clean, pouting mess of a man.

Afterwards, he locked himself away in his junk room, a room he threw all his spare scrap parts and tools and whatnot, most likely to spite you and dirty himself up again.

Part of you felt bad for ruining whatever plans he had. It had been a long week without them, and even though you were doing this for your mom, you really just wanted to spend time with the Junkers. Another part of you, a small part, was thankful he was out of the way for the remainder of your getting ready, as you were already rushing against the clock.

Once you had gotten your hair pinned up just right and eyes popping with a nude shade and dark eyeliner, you rushed back into the bedroom while quickly stripping from your lounge clothes. You then shimmied your way into the dress you’d picked, a lovely burgundy, one-shoulder number with a high slit up to just above your knee and a flowing skirt. Shoes followed, as did a silver set of jewelry, a necklace, earring, and bracelet combo your boys had brought home to you months ago from…well, you told them you didn’t want to know, but it was a beautiful set.

Once you had settled into your outfit, you smoothed the fabric of your dress down a bit to right any bumps and looked to Roadhog, who had been standing idly beside the door, watching you.

“Does it look okay?” you questioned a bit apprehensively, giving a small twirl to show off all the details better. It wasn’t often that you dressed up like that, all fancy and such, and if you were going to be surrounded by other corporate owners, you needed to look your best, at least for the sake of your mother.

Roadhog gave a low hum that resonated deep from his throat as he moved to stand before you. He reached up to run his hand along the line of your bare shoulder up to your neck, the calluses along his palm rough and sending a tingle across your skin. He paused to cup the side of your face, and you couldn’t help but lean into the touch with a small smile.

“You’re missing something,” he rumbled, thumb pressing against your bottom lip before tracing the curve of it carefully. You looked at him in confusion for the briefest moment before realizing what you had forgotten, placing a kiss to the pad of his thumb before moving away and back into the bathroom.

You rummaged through your makeup before finding a nearly brand new tube of lipstick. The color was much darker than you normally preferred, but it matched your dress perfectly and actually looked quite nice on you. You applied it slowly, giving your lips a pop before walking once more into the bedroom and giving a smile.

“How ‘bout now? Better?”

“Perfect,” he nearly growled, the tone sending a pleasant sensation down your spine. It was a completely unexpected reaction out of him, one that you would have to explore… Beep, beep!

…later, it seemed.

“Shit,” you cursed under your breath, moving to grab your beaded handbag as well as your phone from across the room. You made a final stop in the bathroom to give your appearance one more look-over, grabbing your lipstick as an afterthought and tossing it into the little purse.

“I’m hoping to be back before midnight,” you told Roadhog in a rush while nearly dashing down the hall, his heavy steps following at a slower pace, though easily keeping up with you. “If you can, try to get Jamie to eat something, and let him know I’ll be back soon, and I promise not to go anywhere else for the rest of the week.”

You turned at the front door, smiling at the thumb’s up Roadhog was giving you.

“Thanks, Roadie, you’ve been such a help,” you thanked, leaning forward without much thought and placing a kiss to his large belly, as you were oft to do. When you pulled back, you gave a giggle, easily having forgotten about your lipstick and marveling at the dark imprint of your lips against his skin. You gave a cheeky smile then and placed another kiss to his belly, a matching imprint to the first, if not just slightly lighter in color. There was a possibility you would have to reapply your lipstick.

“That one’s for Jamie,” you said, “so be sure he gets it.”

Roadhog gave a slow nod, his attention now on the twin lip prints you left behind on him. You gave a final farewell just as your ride began honking the horn again. If you had been really paying attention, you would have noticed the heated, wanting look following your exit.

 

You gave a heavy sigh as you entered the house nearly five hours later, leaning heavily against the door after shutting it. There had been so many people at the company party, people your mother encouraged -read: forced- you into socializing with. Some of them were actually pretty nice people, while others…. Well, you were just glad to be out of there.

“I’m home!” you called out, moving further into the house. You were a bit surprised to not be bombarded almost immediately after coming through the door, as Junkrat was usually the first to have his arms wrapped around you. Surely he wasn’t still pouting.

“Jamie? ‘Hog? Where are you guys?”

You moved down the hall towards your bedroom, set on taking off your heels and dress before worrying too much about where your boys had gone off to. They were most likely in the junk room, if ‘Rat was still upset or stubborn about not leaving until you got back. If there had been another impromptu mission -unlikely, since they just got back from one-, then one of them would have at least sent a text to let you know.

You opened the bedroom door and stepped inside, letting out a yelp of surprise when you were instantly pushed back into it, effectively shutting it with a hard slam, hand reflexively clutching at your handbag so as not to drop it. You then gave an appreciative groan as a heated body pressed roughly against yours, both cool metal and a searing palm pressing against the side of your neck and face, respectively.

“You go and leave,” Junkrat rasped lowly, giving a short whimper as he pressed his hips into you, your arms winding around his neck, “you go on and fuckin’ leave us, leave us after marking Roadie all up…did you do it just to make us suffer?”

“I…I don’t know what…wha-“

You gave a sharp gasp as you were hoisted up further against the wall with little effort. Instinctively, your thighs clamped around Junkrat’s hips as he pressed closer still, hands now smoothing against the sides of your thighs and hiking your dress even higher. You could feel him, hard and wanting between your legs as he continued to grind against you in short bursts, sending excited tingles up your spine and into your lower belly. He must have been worked up for a while.

“C’mon, lovey,” he whined, voice trembling just slightly as he leaned into you, forehead touching your own and panting breaths brushing against your lips. “Mark me…m-mark me up like you did ‘Hog. It’s a fuckin’ ace colour, so good…so good!”

His words tapered off into gasping mumbles for a moment as he rocked against you. Your mind was quickly going hazy as a sweet, almost torturous pleasure coursed through your veins, lighting your nerve endings on fire with every hard press of his hips, with every pass of his obvious excitement against your core. You were nearly lost to the pleasure when your mind began to really translate what he was asking of you, what he was referring to.

“L-let me,” you began, words breaking off as you willed your focus on your handbag, somehow still tightly clutched in your hold, and popping open the latch to retrieve your lipstick. Junkrat slowed his movements, letting out a long groan as he circled his hips harder against you, a slower grind. Your small purse dropped from your fingers clumsily as you moaned your appreciation, though you had successfully retrieved the black and gold tube.

You took in a deep breath as best you could, uncapping the tube and tossing the lid to the side before reapplying the deep burgundy shade. Junkrat’s attention was fully on you, eyes taking in the color darkening your lips, giving them the smallest bit of shine in the dim lighting of the bedroom.

Without warning, your free hand tangled in his hair, pulling back on it forcefully and making him arch his neck into the air with a delighted keen. Your lips came down on his skin shortly after, pressing small butterfly kisses along his jaw, down the underside of his chin. Your lips pressed more firmly the farther down you went, giving his Adam's apple the lightest nip before continuing on to the hollow of his throat.

You pulled back for just a moment, reapplying a thin layer of color, before your mouth was on his shoulders and chest, teeth now scraping against overheated flesh before being soothed by small, gentle kisses along the abused area. After one particularly rough bite just above his left nipple, he gave a loud, pleasured cry before pulling from your grasp in his hair, the tube of lipstick falling from your fingers.

He was panting rather harshly, looking every bit as wrecked as you felt. A feral grin suddenly brightened his features, followed by a string of giggles you could feel against you just as much as you could hear them.

“Now, lovey, let me have a go.”

His hand was in your hair before you could register his words, and it was you who was arching your neck and keening to him. His sharp teeth latched on to the sensitive skin where neck met shoulder, tongue lavishing the tender flesh between, as your body convulsed with the action and your lungs let out a scream of praise.

Junkrat gave a heady grunt as he moved slightly up your neck, his hips suddenly hard and flush against you as a searing heat enveloped your bottom from beneath your raised dress. You opened eyes you didn’t remember closing, taking in sharp, panting breaths and moaning at the sight of Roadhog now towering above you both, his hand practically burning you while keeping you in place, his front pressed against Junkrat’s back and face void of his signature mask.

Your attention had been immediately seized by ‘Rat when you entered the room; you had no idea Roadhog was even in there. It was just like him to do that, however, let Junkrat have at you while he watched until his own desires were stoked to the point he could no longer control them.

You reached for him, hand shaking as you took hold of his meaty shoulder, nails digging into his skin with yet another harsh bite from Junkrat. You could practically feel the rumble of ‘Hog’s pleased growl through the thinner man between you, heating you through even further. Junkrat started to whimper and whine and began rocking his hips between the two of you, barely moving, but still sending sparks through your center, all the same.

“Almost…I’m ah-almost, please,” you warned, begged, feeling that telltale tightening sensation as well as the stronger need to be impossibly closer, hips uselessly trying to move from where they were snuggly pinned against the door.

“C’mon, then, we got you,” Junkrat encouraged, kissing his way across your throat to the other side of your neck. Roadhog gave another growl as he leaned his towering form over you, his lips pressing to yours in a fierce kiss. His hand against the curve of your bottom shifted to the back of your thigh, raising your leg up that much higher while pulling you forward. At the same time, he thrust his hips into Junkrat’s, of which made the man grind against you.

Timed perfectly with a punishing bite to the unblemished side of your neck, you were lost in euphoria, screaming your release against Roadhog’s mouth as your vision filled with stars, then suddenly blacked out.

It took a moment for you to recollect your mind, your body buzzing pleasantly and legs convulsing with aftershocks. Roadhog was pressing gentle kisses against your panting mouth, your cheeks, your forehead. Junkrat was giving you sweet, gentle praises from beside you on the bed as his flesh hand stroked lovingly over the bite marks he had left on you.

The bed?

Wow, you really had blacked out there, for a minute. Huh, you hadn’t done that in a while.

“You okay?” Roadhog questioned once he realized you were finally aware of your surroundings, catching Junkrat’s attention.

“Yeah, you good, lovey? Jumped you right from the start. Guess I should’ve asked how your suit party went.”

Your eyes wandered over to Junkrat, gaze roaming over the multiple lip prints and smudges across his skin. He looked a right mess and was grinning like a fool because of it. A tired smile lit up your face at how pleased he looked.

You could only imagine how you looked at that moment, lipstick probably smeared across your face and bruises forming along your throat.

“It was…unexpected, honestly. The jumping bit. But I’m good. More than good.”

Junkrat’s grin turned downright lecherous, his hand straying from your neck to cup a breast, the action forcing a gasp from you. This, in turn, gave Roadhog incentive to press his mouth firmly against yours in a gentle, searing kiss.

“Good! How’s about we lose the dress, see how many more places we can mark you up?”

Chapter Text

Hey, now! Don’t be playing favorites!

You gave a small sigh as you sat beside Roadhog on the couch, looking up momentarily at the man, who was currently wrapped up in a book, of all things. How he managed to read so well with his mask on was beyond you, but it kept him content on lazy days like this one.

Junkrat had disappeared outside with Roxie, of which was both good and bad. Good in the sense that both of them would be occupied for some time, and bad because Junkrat had made a show of lugging out scrap pieces and schematics from his junk room. By the end of the day, you fully expected a few more holes in the back yard. Roxie loved the newly acquired dirt holes, in any case, so there wasn’t much to complain about, so long as Junkrat kept his explosions in the back and left your flower garden in the front unscathed.

All in all, the afternoon had turned out rather nice. It wasn’t often you got to sit back and enjoy doing absolutely nothing with your boys, which was fine. You loved the crazy adventures and shenanigans the Junkers often led you into. But it was nice doing something different from the normal rowdy, sometimes troublesome situations that Junkrat was more often than not the instigator of.

The shenanigans and random explosions stopped bothering you a long time ago, honestly. Junkrat, by nature, was an enthusiastic, excitable, psychotic man that sometimes acted like a child and had the sweetest of tendencies, even if they weren’t shown in the best way. You hardly ever denied the lithe man of his fun, and in turn, you got to see his face light up with the biggest grin and usually garnered a few kisses afterward. Even Roadhog seemed more at ease when Junkrat was entertained, which made things all the sweeter.

Yes, the day was turning out to be a mellow and relaxing one.

Hey now! Don’t be playing favorites!

Except, instead of relaxing, you found yourself jittery and unable to fully unwind. Your mind was racing, and not in a good way. Already, you had been back and forth through the house several times, sometimes peeking out the windows to watch Junkrat tinker with his contraption while Roxie ran about him.

You were on your third attempt at settling beside Roadhog, who had been eyeing your behavior closely without you realizing it. Your leg was bouncing sporadically despite your hands pressed to your thighs, a habit you had formed in your childhood when you were anxious.

Don’t be playing favorites!

Honestly, you didn’t understand why you were feeling this way over a short, simple statement that had no correlation to your relationship. Your friend had said it, yes, but they were talking about something completely different to what your mind kept running to. How on earth had your thoughts jumped to your relationship with the two men in your life?

Being in a polyamorous relationship was never something you had seriously sat down and thought about. If you had, then surely you would have come up with the fear of possibly loving one partner more than the other. Here you were, though, in a happy relationship with the most unlikely of duos, enjoying life with every surprising turn it provided.

At least…you thought it was a happy relationship. Wasn’t it?

Don’t be playing favorites!

Was it…was it possible that you were feeling guilty about this? Were you actually playing favorites, and not realizing it? You loved both men equally and with just as much passion, there was no doubt about that. There was never a time where you felt you favored one over the other.

And yet you recalled all the times Junkrat had taken your full attention, had pulled you away and all but demanded you watch this, or check that out. You began thinking of all the moments that he became the center of your focus with little effort, and it made your stomach turn. This happened often, so much so that to anyone else, it might look like you were neglecting Roadhog. That was never your intention, to make either one of the Junkers feel neglected by you in any way.

It wasn’t your intention, but was it happening? Were you possibly showing a favor toward Junkrat subconsciously?

You startled when a large hand engulfed your knee, effectively stopping your leg’s movement. You looked up to find Roadhog’s attention had turned to you, other hand still clutching the book he’d been reading.

“Sorry, sorry, I’ll stop,” you said quietly, giving a smile as both your hands moved to his against your leg, fingers gently kneading the knuckles. You could feel his gaze linger on you for a long moment, even as you turned away to look down at your ministrations. He moved back to his book with a small grunt soon after, his thumb grazing the side of your knee with careful strokes.

For a while, you both stayed like that, your mind easing in favor of the quiet moment between you. The guilt from before came rearing back, however, and it was all you could do not to fidget.

“Hey…Mako?”

The motion of his thumb on your skin stopped suddenly, his head slowly turning to look down at you once more. He gave a short huff at the expression you were giving him, uncertainty in your gaze, before placing his book to the side and pulling away from his hold on your leg.

He was reaching up behind his head, pulling at the straps of his mask, pulling the buckles free until he could pull it away from his face and place it with his book on the side table. Your gaze was met with that of hard, concerned almond brown eyes.

“What’s wrong?”

You gave a faltering smile as you looked down at your lap, suddenly feeling a bit bashful. Deep breath in, long exhale.

“You’re…you’re good, right? I mean, you’re happy, aren’t you? In this relationship, with me and Jamie.”

His lips turned down into a vexed pout at your questioning, which had you backtracking in your thoughts. Maybe you weren’t wording things right.

“I didn’t mean to question you or anything like that. Just…you would tell me, right? If something wasn’t right, or if you felt left out, or…something, you’d let me know, wouldn’t you?”

He stared at you for a long minute, angry pout still in place and eyes narrowing. You weren’t sure if you were completely messing up the question, or maybe he didn’t understand. Or maybe…maybe he did, and his stare was saying everything he couldn’t, wouldn’t, put into words.

Playing favorites! Playing favorites!

“I’m sorry,” you said again, quietly, as you tore your eyes from his, feeling your heart lurch painfully in your chest as the sting of hot tears clouded your vision.

You stood abruptly from the couch with the intent of moving to the bedroom until you could calm your frazzled emotions, when you were stopped and pulled back by Mako. A sharp gasp left you when you were lifted and maneuvered into his lap to face him, arms spread out over his large belly, more for balance than comfort. His eyes were still on you, though the anger you first noticed gave way to concern as his hands came up to cup your face.

“What’s wrong?” he asked again, voice deep and unfiltered, imploring. “Tell me.”

And you did. You told him what was bothering you, how such a silly statement had turned ugly and condemning in your mind, twisting your thoughts until you felt guilty for something you weren’t sure was even a problem to begin with. But you noticed your favoritism, so it had to be a problem, and maybe you weren’t cut out for being in such a relationship if you were going be doing such a thing as leaving Mako out of things, or always turning your attention to Jamie every time he called out to you, and you were so stupid and careless for letting things get this way, and-

“Stop that,” Mako growled out, pout deepening as his eyes narrowed with your words. You let out a choked sob while leaning into one of his palms, doing your best to fight off another onslaught of tears. It wasn’t clear if he meant for you to stop your crying or your talking, so the best you could settle for was calming down.

“’m sorry! I’m…I’m an idiot, I know. I’ll shut up.”

“That’s not what I mean.”

There was a shift in his posture as he leaned forward, hands gently pulling your face just a bit closer so that he could press a gentle, lingering kiss to your forehead. He did the same to your nose, to both tear-stained cheeks, your chin, each gentle press causing your heart to flutter in your chest. He then pressed his plush lips to yours firmly, with just as much gentleness as he showed the rest of your features. The action was nearly enough to send you into another bout of crying.

“You do right by us,” he began as he pulled away, one of his hands moving to card through your hair. “Always have. Love you for it.”

The hiccup that left you was from forcing down another sob, this one in overwhelming relief.

“You don’t…you don’t feel left out? When J-Jamie takes all my attention, doesn’t it bother you?”

“You always include me,” he said simply, voice rumbling through his body. “Like how you two play nice, anyway. Keeps him busy. Makes me happy.”

Suddenly, your thoughts from before didn’t seem so ludicrously one-sided, as if all your attention had remained solely on the thinner Junker. You could recall now the times you would look over and smile at Roadhog, Mako, while Junkrat explained something to you about his latest device, or times where Junkrat would grab your hand and pull you along, only for you to pull back and grab Roadhog’s hand to join in the chain to wherever ‘Rat decided to lead you.

Junkrat took a lot of your attention, there was no lie in that, but you were always making sure ‘Hog was included, even if he was a distance away. And even if you were engrossed in whatever ‘Rat was telling you or showing you, Roadhog was a quiet observer, enjoying the way his two partners interacted and got along. It made him happy seeing you both together, just as it did when you saw your boys together.

Your mind had created a problem out of nothing, it seemed. God, but you felt silly.

“Guess I think too hard about silly things,” you mused, giving a short laugh and a sniffle as you wiped at the wet streaks along your face with the back of your hand. Mako gave a low hum as if to agree with what you said, leaning in once more to kiss you. It was a gentle and sweet embrace, one he knew you needed and was more than happy to carry out.

There was a sudden clatter that had you both pulling away, both looking to the source of the noise to find Junkrat dropping his newly formed contraption on the coffee table, splotched with dirt and grease and looking more thrilled than any one man ought to. Whether it was from his tinkering or finding you and Mako as he had, you weren’t sure. Roxie was sitting dutifully beside him, panting lightly from having run around right before coming in.

“Oi, what’s this? Got me lovies pashing on each other without me! Can’t just leave a fella out like that.”

Mako fixed Junkrat with a glare, though there wasn’t much heat behind it. You, in turn, gave another short laugh.

“Jamison,” the large man called out, and instantly, Junkrat’s smile faltered in confusion at the full use of his first name, eyes moving to study you both. When his gaze found yours, eyes a bit puffy from crying and the remaining tears clinging to your lashes, his confusion disappeared in favor of a frown and furrowed brows.

He hobbled over to the couch quietly as Roxie ran about him, stopping in front of you and Mako and reaching his arms out to wind around you from behind, the burly man before you moving his hands to your hips. You placed your hands over Junkrat’s arms, of which had settled just underneath your breasts, content with his sun warmed skin pressing up behind you, his head nuzzling into the crook of your neck. He smelled of earth and metal from whatever contraption he was working on, and it comforted you to have him near. It comforted you to be in both your Junkers’ embraces.

“You good now, sheila?” Junkrat questioned, pressing a small kiss to your neck. You could feel his thumb rubbing against your ribs in a soothing manner, nearly the same way Mako’s thumbs were running circles over your hip bones.

“Yeah, Mako made it better,” you assured the lithe man attempting to make you giggle with the tickling, teasing kisses he continued to press against whatever skin he could reach. You smiled up at Mako then, a thank you for bringing you out of the funk you’d forced yourself in. You were then promptly swatting at ‘Rat for having nipped at your neck, earning a manic giggle and another little nip.

“Good, good. Knew there was a reason I kept him around.”

Mako gave another glare, once again lacking the heat behind it, before reaching out and pulling both you and Junkrat closer into his embrace, of which had the lithe man shouting in surprise. There was some fumbling, but you both managed to relax against the warmth of Mako’s round belly, his massive hands coming up to run through your hair.

“Roxie,” he called out, you and Junkrat giggling at the rumble you both felt beneath your heads and hands against his stomach. Roxie was instantly hopping up onto the couch, maneuvering her way up the back side and crawling over Junkrat’s back to get to the very top of Mako’s stomach. She then curled up there, letting out a content chirp as you reached up to pet along her back. There you all were, one content, happy pile.

All in all, the afternoon turned out to be rather nice.

Chapter Text

The resounding slap of a hand hitting flesh echoed throughout the small room. You would have screamed at the contact, had the sinister man above you not bound your mouth shut some time ago. If there was one thing you had learned from Junkrat, it was that being mouthy could be very useful. In this case, it had bought you some time, had led your captors on for a long while before they realized you were only speaking nonsense.

When talking and major verbal threats didn’t play out, their tactics had changed down a more physical route. There were three of them who began touching on you at first, two men and an overly confident woman who seemed to be in charge at the time. Hands were up your shirt and attempting to worm their way into your denim shorts as the woman cooed at you and stroked your cheek.

That was when you turned your head and latched onto her fingers with your teeth, uncaring of the blood gushing into your mouth with the increase in pressure of your bite. You’d have bitten the digits clean off, if not for the punch to your face that had you releasing them. She was escorted out of the room, screaming and cursing up a storm, and was immediately replaced with the guy now dealing out your torture, of which had, so far, been slaps to the face and punches to your gut, rough yanks of your hair and constant verbal threats that got to you the more physically exhausted you became.

You knew being with Junkrat and Roadhog was dangerous, that there was a possibility of being hurt in the crossfire or being recognized with them because of their status as wanted criminals as well as their involvement in the newly reformed, but still low-key, Overwatch.

Hell, your mother’s company supplied them under the table with anything they needed, generous donations pouring in to accommodate them within any area of the world they so happened to travel. You had a huge target on your back, and you knew that. It was only a matter of time before enemies used you to get to them, and now, here you were.

How long had it been since you were taken from your home? Hours? Days? You had no way of keeping up with time in that room, no clock anywhere in sight. The only material thing in the room was the very chair you’d been bound to since being dragged there.

“When do you plan on giving me the information I’m after?” the man questioned as he leaned down, hand reaching out to thread through your hair and jerking hard to lift your head up. You reeled at the motion a moment before giving a tired glare, despite the tears wetting your eyes and cheeks.

He clicked his tongue at your defiance, though seemed amused. In one smooth motion, he raised his free hand to your eye level, revealing the sharp, glinting knife within his grasp with a taunting wiggle. Your heart thudded hard within your chest at the sight, knowing what was coming next, though you were blessedly able to keep up your glare. Doing so earned you a chuckle.

“Such fire in you, still! Don’t worry, sweetheart, I’ve broken stronger men in a matter of days. You won’t last the night before you’re spilling every little secret you know.”

Another round of torture began, this time with sharp, stinging passes of pristine, chilled metal into your flesh and the hot-to-cold feeling of your blood spilling and clotting against your skin and clothes. Your nerves tingled and burned agonizingly with every smooth drag of the blade through tissue and muscle.

By the time he let up the third go-around, having taken long breaks between sessions to ask you questions and returning with deeper slashes at each negative response you gave, you were whimpering and crying at the searing pains along your body, the pitiful sounds muffled by the thick cloth covering the lower half of your face.

The man towering over you gave a wicked smirk, obviously pleased with his work, with the mess he had reduced you to. He reached up to your face, fingers taking hold of your chin, of which had you flinching away from the touch. He gave a short chuckle as he chased your movement, lifting your head up once more to meet your watery eyes while removing your gag.

“Now, how do you feel about giving me that information, hm?

There was a pause where your eyes rolled about, unfocused, hazy. He pulled your attention back with a shake of his hand on your chin. You blinked a few times to clear your vision, breath stuttering and a low whimper escaping you.

“What…d-did you want t’ know?”

His smirk turned almost feral.

“I want you to tell me everything you know. Where are the Overwatch agents grouping? How many have already joined the recall, and how many more are planned to? Tell me.”

It took a moment for you to register everything that he had said, your eyes fluttering and head spinning at the slow, gradual loss of blood and physical exhaustion. You opened your mouth to speak, lips moving, but your voice had caught in your throat, words quiet and unheard. The man gave a disapproving look before dragging his blunt nails roughly down your arm, opening up freshly closed wounds he had created. You gave a surprised cry of pain.

“You’ll have to speak up, sweetheart. I’m a bit impatient when it comes to reading lips.”

“S-sorry,” you ground out through clenched teeth, huffing as the intense wave of burning pain slowly became a dull, aching throb that pulsed with every beat of your heart.

“What…what I was s-saying was…g-go t’ hell, you scum of the earth, and take your friends with you!”

You finished by spitting at the man, giving a short, gasping chuckle at the look of angry disgust on his face at the action. The hard slap to your face that followed was expected, though the tipping of your chair was a surprise. You shouted at the hard hit against cold metal, your world having gone sideways with the fall.

“Perhaps I underestimated your bullheadedness. No matter.”

He loomed over you, smirk more of a sneer as he appraised your battered form.

“I still have ways of making you talk.”

Without warning, he raised his foot and brought it down, hard, against your knee. A scream ripped through your throat at the agonizing pain shooting from the point of contact, your nervous system alight with sharp prickles of throbbing pain. It only intensified with the grinding of his boot into the fracturing bone and busted blood vessels beneath your skin, swelling and distorting the area rapidly. You tried pulling away, but your efforts were fruitless with your ankles bound to each front leg of the chair.

There was no escape, not by your own means.

“Me and you are gonna have a fun time, sweetheart,” your torturer crooned as he brought down his foot a second time, delighting in the sickening crack of bones breaking beneath his boot as well as your wailing. He seemed unconcerned by your choking spouts of refusal to tell him anything, instead taking more pleasure at your distress.

“You will tell me everything, all in due time. And we have much of that to-”

His words died upon the faint flickering of the light overhead, his attention turning to it in mild confusion. He moved away from you, eyes narrowing as he stared at the light for a few seconds, before turning at the sound of the door sliding open. A panicked subordinate stood there, hand holding firm to his gun at his side.

“Sir, we have a breech.”

“How many?” he growled out.

“Just two that we know of. But, Sir, they have-”

There was a loud, rumbling blast in the distance, the floor vibrating with the force of it, as well as the distinct shouts of orders being thrown about in a panic much like the subordinate before your tormentor showed. The man dealing your torture scowled, ready to give out his own orders, when a fuzzy, static-like sound filled the room. Then, a voice, confused and angry and so welcoming that it had you gasping in absolute relief, spoke through the hidden speaker overhead.

“-llo? Hello? Is this stupid thing workin’ any? If it ain’t….”

“N-no, no! It’s working, I swear!”

“They can hear me, then?”

You gave out a delighted cry that bordered on a sob, having to fight back the fresh rush of tears already beading at the corners of your eyes.

“J-Jamie! Jamie, oh God, please!”

“Lovey, is that you? Where they got you stashed? Me n’ Roadie are here, now, we’ll find ya!”

There was a low, gruff sound after Junkrat’s words, nearly a growl, and you recognized it almost instantly as Roadhog giving a confirmation to ‘Rat’s words. They were here, both of them, just as you knew they would be.

“I…I’m on level two! Jamie, M-ack!

You were forcefully silenced by a swift kick to your face, nearly choking on the alarming rush of blood that filled your mouth. With a gag and a wet cough, you spit out the coppery taste, the tinkling scatter of enamel against metal almost loud in your ears. That explained the blood, then.

“That’s enough out of you,” the man said, eyes passing over you almost indifferently before looking up to the ceiling once more, Junkrat’s dangerously steady voice filling the room with the barest hint of a menacing giggle. In the background, you could just make out the hard, heavy thumps of someone walking away.

“Don’t know what you lot did to our (Y/n), but ya shouldn’t have. I was just gonna blow you all up, but you’ve gone and upset me mate, and he ain’t so forgiving.”

There was another blast from somewhere much closer, close enough that the subordinate at the door tightened his grip on his gun and the lights gave another waning flicker. Junkrat’s cackle suddenly rang throughout the room.

“Sounds like the team found their way in! A shame, really. I was looking forward to blowing up every one of you fuckers to pieces. Guess Plan B will have to do.”

“You’re bluffing,” your captor seethed, eyes narrowing as if challenging Junkrat to prove him wrong. There was the barest hint of a shuffle of something or other before a chiming ‘click’ echoed through the speaker. A few seconds of beeping, a panicked shout. Then the speaker gave a loud, booming sound before it crackled and whined in a high, pitchy tone that had the two men cringing and you trying to press into the floor as if to escape the noise.

“Oops, me finger slipped,” Junkrat’s voice filtered through, distorted heavily by crackling static, his manic laughter filtering into the room before the speaker cut out entirely, leaving behind a moment of almost deathly silence that had your ears ringing all over again.

When you were able to focus on the utter chaos that was happening outside the door, your realized that you were once again in an upright position, just you and your tormentor cutting swiftly through your bindings. It took even longer for you to realize that you had blacked out, but for how long, you weren’t sure. The sound of mild explosions and shouts from outside the now closed door was enough to clue you in that it had been at least a solid five minutes.

The jostling of your swollen knee as he cut the bindings around your ankles had you crying out weakly, body slumped as bruised muscle and torn flesh refused to hold you up. He said nothing when he put away his knife and picked up your body as if it weighed nothing. The blinding pain of the sudden movement had your head swimming, mouth open in a silent, agonized scream, and once again you were blacking out.

Your mind was in a sort of limbo, cutting off most all your senses, save for your hearing. The sounds were gunshots, angry orders shouted over explosions. There was music at one point, almost melodic and familiar, as well as the distant roar of a beast, maybe two, that you knew you had heard before. Heavy footsteps, the chorus of hard grunts and shrill cries of those succumbing to their fate. The ‘chnk, chnk, chnk’ of a heavy chain rattling, and the delighted cackle over the crackling of fire.

When your senses came back to you, the first thing you felt was the gentle glide of a large hand over your hair, steady and methodical and so very careful with every motion. You were surrounded by warmth, and you hadn’t realized exactly how cold you were feeling until you suddenly weren’t anymore. It was as if all your aches and pains were dulled by the warmth, not completely gone, but definitely not an issue for the time being. You almost felt numb, every part of your body heavy and tingly, and it almost lulled you into sleep.

“She’s good, yeah, Roadie? We didn’t…we weren’t too late on this one, right?”

There was a low rumble above you, the sound vibrating all along your right side. It was hard to tell what it meant with your mind muddled, that sound, but it was familiar and welcoming, all the same. There was a scoff to your left, followed by a low whine of frustration.

“She’s too still! That ain’t how she’s supposed to be. This stupid glow-trap ol’ man 76 gave us better work, or…or I’ll….”

“Give it time,” was muttered out, tone a bit sharp, but otherwise placating, assuring. A sigh filled the air from your left, until there was nothing but the faint echo of battle in the distance. Wherever you were, you knew you were safe.

It took a while, but when you were finally able to open your eyes, it was to the sight of Roadhog’s masked face surrounded by a soft yellow glow. You recognized the healing light, having seen it once or twice before and knowing it to be from a biotic emitter, one that Soldier 76 usually carried on his person. You fleetingly wondered if he was here, too, if there were others who had come to find you, just as your boys had.

“M-Mako,” you murmured, finding it a bit difficult to move your mouth, but from swelling or the overall heavy feeling of exhausted muscle, you weren’t sure. His hand had paused briefly in your hair before he continued the soothing motion, looking down at you and giving a short hum that had Junkrat scrambling closer, his ash-sprinkled face and wide amber eyes coming into your line of view.

“Jamie,” you cooed quietly, trying for a smile but wincing instead. “You…you found me. Knew you would. My boys….”

“Shut up,” Roadhog shushed, distorted voice low and gentle despite the seemingly harsh words he used. You could hear the concern now, could feel it in the way he said it and knew what he really meant. ‘Be quiet, save your strength. Rest, now.’

“You had us all worried for a tick, there, lovey,” Junkrat spoke up, flesh hand coming up to touch your face lightly before fleetingly moving along your body with feather-light touches of his fingertips. He never was able to keep very still for too long, and even in this situation, he was antsy and in need of an outlet for his nervous energy. It helped that touching you was a comfort to him just as much as it was to you.

“Should’ve seen the lackey I blew up in the comm room! That harness I been fixin’ up worked like a charm. And Roadie went on a rampage when that fucker keeping you hostage made you all quiet. Think he took out more ‘n the team, combined!”

He followed up with a tight giggle, fingers faltering along your skin at the stuttering of your breath and the small sound of protest escaping you. Even with the healing glow surrounding you, your busted knee was still tender and looked quite a sight, already dark in color nearly halfway up your thigh and down your leg, the knee itself swollen something fierce and imprinted a little darker where the sole of your captor’s boot dug in the most.

“He should’ve suffered for all he did,” Junkrat muttered, voice dangerously dark as his eyes fixated on the damage done, hand hovering and fidgeting above the injury. Most of your shallow cuts were mostly healed up thanks to the biotic emitter, though it was gonna take a great deal more to fix the deeper gashes as well as your knee.

At least you knew the man who had tortured you was no more.

“’m…I’m okay,” you said, pulling Junkrat’s attention back to your face, the worry and anger he tried to hide as plain as day.

Roadhog gave a rumbling growl above you, short and pointed, an attempt to shush you once more. This time, you were able to pull off a smile, reaching up a weak, shaky hand and letting it fall limply against the curve of his stomach. As if on impulse, Junkrat loomed over you and placed his hand over the back of yours, carefully smoothing out your trembling fingers against warm, tattooed skin.

“I’m alright,” you assured him, the both of them, “I’m okay.”

Roadhog huffed as his free hand came up and pressed against Junkrat’s hand, effectively covering his and yours with a gentle cradle. It was a comforting, loving gesture, one that would have had you crying, if you weren’t so exhausted.

“Course ya are, lovey,” Junkrat murmured from above before turning at the sound of rushed footsteps in the distance. Then, a bright, relieved call of the Junkers’ names echoed down the corridor that sounded very much like Lúcio, if you were hearing right, and before long a rush of footsteps and relieved voiced were coming toward you three, surrounding you in a matter of seconds with questions and exclamations of your condition.

Your friends were there, after all, willing to put their lives on the line to save you, just as Junkrat and Roadhog had. God, but you were grateful.

“Alright, alright, enough chatter. Let’s get her to transport,” you heard Soldier 76 grumble out as Lúcio fussed over you a bit, the lulling sound of his music taking over the task of keeping your aches and pains at bay. Roadhog was careful as he stood from the floor, shifting you as little as possible in his hold. Junkrat remained close to his side, his hand now grasping yours as their teammates led the way out of the facility.

The road to recovery was bound to be a bumpy road, both physically and mentally. You were lucky enough to have two partners who would do damn near anything for you, had already done more than a lifetime’s worth to show how deeply they cared for you.

“We got you now, sheila,” Junkrat mused with a short laugh, Roadhog giving a grunt of agreement as you all boarded the transport. “Ain’t anything else gonna take you away again, unless they plan on bein’ blown to pieces!”

You knew they would be with you every step of the way.

Chapter Text

Moving out of the sleep pile without waking the Junkers was a difficult feat, especially when Mako tended to be a lighter sleeper, but you managed most mornings to slip out undetected. It was the same case at the moment, having to carefully rearrange Jamie’s sporadically splayed limbs in order to create a decent space for you to wiggle free, Mako only shifting minutely with your departure.

Roxie had woken up as soon as you began shifting more than usual and was eagerly waiting for you at the bedroom door, thankfully keeping her excited whimpering to a minimum. Once you opened the door, she shot out like a bullet, presumably headed for the back door where she would wait for you once more to let her out.

Thus began your morning routine, moving quietly through the house and mainly puttering around the kitchen with the intent on getting things set up for breakfast. You wouldn’t need to start on it for another hour or so, but it was good to be prepared. In the meantime, you settled on making a pot of coffee, content with sipping on a cup of it while going through your emails via your tablet.

At some point, you let Roxie back inside just as the sky, dark and filled with ominous looking clouds, began to open up and let out a downpour of rain, fixing up the fox’s food almost subconsciously as you continued reading up on a particular email your mother had sent to you. It looked like she wanted you to be part of some meeting with some high-end construction company she had set up for Thursday afternoon. That gave you three full, uninterrupted days with your boys, who just got back from their latest mission last night and were on a full week leave.

You immersed yourself in the details for a moment, unaware of the looming, quiet presence coming up behind you. Roxie gave a yip, and you turned automatically to place her bowl back on the floor…only to bump into the warm, solid mass of Mako’s belly.

“Oh!” you exclaimed lightly, startled at his presence, but smiling brightly, nonetheless, as you looked up into his sleep-hazed eyes. “Hey, Mako, good morning. I didn’t think you’d be up so soon. I didn’t wake you earlier, did I?”

Mako gave a low grunt, then unexpectedly leaned down to kiss you, pressing his lips smoothly to yours for a few brief seconds. He usually wasn’t so affectionate when first waking up, more often a bit on the grumpy, reserved side until he was more willing to go about his day. Whatever the change was this particular morning, you definitely weren’t complaining.

You separated from each other with the lightest pop, feeling a bit flustered at the unexpected affection, but smiling brightly. Mako’s lips quirked up ever so slightly at the corners as he pulled Roxie’s bowl from your hand.

“Good morning, indeed. I’ll get you some coffee,” you murmured, earning a low, grumbling hum as he made to turn away. Roxie excitedly began yipping and jumping up briefly on her one back leg when Mako moved to place her food down, giving the fox a few gentle pats and scritches behind her ears.

You watched the interaction for a moment, smiling warmly at the display, before setting about grabbing another coffee cup. He liked it with more creamer and just a hint of sugar, preferring a richer taste than sweet, and he apparently liked it best when you fixed it for him. You were more than happy to do so, and in return, he usually helped you out with breakfast once he finished his cup.

Filling up your cup once more, you moved into the living room where Mako had lumbered off to, finding him on the couch. You smiled warmly as you handed off his coffee, taking hold of your tablet once more, of which you had tucked into the bend of your arm, and pulling up the holo-screen.

“I’ve been keeping up with your stories, you know,” you commented lightly, finger tapping and scrolling through various screens and options on the holographic screen displaying from your tablet. “You’re only two behind. They explain a lot of Rachel’s issues in this one.”

With a final tap, you closed out of the holo-screen, only for the television to kick on, starting up a soap opera you had inadvertently gotten caught up in, all thanks to the man you were now sitting beside. You made yourself comfortable on the couch, lower back pressing against one of the plush arms as you pulled your legs up and dropped them carefully over Mako’s lap. He didn’t mind the position in the slightest, free hand coming up to rest over your legs as a deep rumble of contentment lightly shook his body.

For a solid fifty minutes, you both stayed like that in quiet companionship, your attention shifting back and forth between the remainder of your emails and what was happening on the screen as Mako sipped his coffee, gently stroking over your skin almost absentmindedly. Once that episode was over, you started the next one and stood, earning a confused look from Mako, who immediately attempted to pull you back.

“Just gonna get breakfast started,” you said with a smile, bringing one of his hands to your lips and placing a few gentle kisses to his knuckles. He gave you a look that bordered on a pout as he rocked forward. You were quick to stop him, which earned you another confused pout.

“No, no, you’re fine. I want to spoil my boys this morning, so leave breakfast to me, okay?”

Mako stared at you long and hard for what felt like forever before he gave a nod and a short hum, leaning back into the couch. You smiled brightly as you leaned over him to plant a smooch against his cheek, then another against his belly as you pulled away. You then grabbed his empty coffee cup before heading back into the kitchen to place it and your own in the sink, then moved to the fridge to gather ingredients.

Cooking on such a day as this was always enjoyable, even with a yipping Roxie darting around your feet in hopes that you would play with her. You couldn’t help but laugh as she jumped up and batted at the strings of your apron, having gotten hold of one with her mouth and tugging the bow loose twice during your meal preparations. Then she mysteriously disappeared as you were whisking the eggs together, and though you would normally be worried as to what she was getting into, the sleepy, muffled praises you could hear coming from the living room gave you a pretty good clue as to why she had run off so suddenly.

A strong, thin arm wrapped around your middle from behind just as you were pouring some of the beaten eggs into a pan, pulling you away from your task and against the firm press of a warm, lithe body. You gave a playful huff as a sleepy giggle rang in your ears.

“I feel like none of you want me to get breakfast going,” you commented with an exasperated smile, turning to gaze up at a grinning Jamie. At finally having your attention, he leaned down and peppered several kiss across your face, ending with a few lingering pecks to your lips.

“Guess you’re in a good mood, too,” you cooed, laughing as Roxie made herself known once more with some yips and biting playfully at Jamie’s metal peg leg.

“Alright, ya mangy thing,” Jamie called out affectionately, removing himself from you in order to crouch down and give Roxie some love, of which the fox immediately chirped and flipped over for. It was from this angle that you were finally able to notice something… a bit off.

“Ah, Jamie, you’re missing something,” you pointed out, the blond Junker looking up at you as if confused before giving a sheepish grin. He then turned for you to have a better visual of the stump of his right arm and gave it a waggle, metal prosthetic nowhere to be seen.

“Yeah, misplaced me arm somewhere. Can’t find the bloody thing in the bedroom.”

“I think you had it last in your junk room so you could make some small repairs,” you offered helpfully as you moved back to the task of cooking. “I’ll help you look for it after breakfast, if you like.”

“Thanks, lovey!”

Jamie stood back to his full height, moving back behind you a moment to place a few kisses to the top of your head. You giggled lightly, swatting at him.

“Go cuddle up to Mako so I can get this finished up. He’s been very affectionate this morning.”

“Oh? Has he, now?” Jamie queried with a grand smile, finally scooting away from you to make his way into the living room. As an afterthought, you called out over your shoulder.

“We started up our stories over an hour ago.”

“Fuck! Hog, ya promised this time to wait on me!”

You heard the low chuckle from Mako as Jamie fussed at missing the first missed episode, the commotion causing you to smile.

After a minute, things seemed to settle down, and all you could hear from your position was the sizzle of the pans as you continued cooking up a nice assortment of things. You made sure to cut up some fresh berries and added some honey over the biscuits you were baking, as well, since Jamie wasn’t as fond of spinach omelets as Mako was, his pallet preferring sweeter foods.

With another twenty minutes under the belt, you were finally finishing up the last few things, making sure to set the table and turn off any remaining burners still keeping the food warm. Once everything had been moved to the table, you made your way back into the living room to announce that the food was ready, only to pause and gaze affectionately at the sight before you.

Jamie had all but sprawled out across Mako, who looked content to have the younger man’s gangly limbs all over him. For all his fussing, Jamie wasn’t even watching the t.v., though Mako had been kind enough to start the episode you had watched together over again. Instead, the blond had taken it upon himself to run thin fingers through Mako’s sleep mused hair while lightly nibbling at his meaty shoulder through the thin layer of the burly man’s shirt. He tugged at the silver strands after a short moment and lifted up, pressing an eager kiss to plush lips, of which was returned unhurriedly.

How you wished you had a camera to capture the moment…

…which was over without warning when Jamie turned with an exclamation at the television, nearly falling right out of Mako’s lap in his eagerness. Apparently, he had been listening well enough to what was happening on the screen.

“Knew it! I fucking knew it! Rachel’s mum’s a right cunt!”

“And that’s my cue. Breakfast, boys.”

“Awe, c’mon, lovey, it was just getting good!”

“You weren’t even watching it,” you laughed out as he was shoved up to stand by Mako, the bigger man following after as Jamie hobbled into the kitchen. Mako gave a grunt in agreement to your statement, and Jamie went off explaining himself as if he were under scrutiny for his actions. You could only shake your head as you all sat at the dining room table and began diving in to the spread you had put out.

These were definitely the mornings you cherished most.

Chapter Text

Noticing little nuances about your partners wasn’t that hard, not with how long the three of you had been together. Jamie was easy enough to read and pretty much had been from the start, always expressive with his words and actions and more often voicing any concerns or discontent, whether necessary or not, with absolutely no filter on the subject. You were always quick to tell what it was that the lithe man needed, just by his mannerisms or a short moment of talking to him, and any issues could be easily solved.

Mako, however….

You watched from your position at the garage entrance as the disgruntled Junker worked on his bike, hands dirtied with grease and oil from fiddling with various parts of the engine. He’d been working on it for a couple hours now, ensuring it was in the best state possible for the next mission out, whenever that would be. It also gave him time to himself, something he had needed today after losing his patience with Jamie’s clinging to him.

It had taken a while to understand how to read Mako, his quiet nature and outwardly intimidating presence enough to throw off most that got too close, even you. Over time, it became easier, but took no less skill in understanding how to read the massive man. It helped when his mask was put away, but such a feat had been hard to accomplish in the first couple of months into the relationship, and for good reason.

Now, it was almost too easy to catch the way Mako struggled just a bit to stand from his crouch beside his motorcycle, how his pouty lips were pressed more into a frown than usual and how he rotated his shoulders back in discomfort as he stood to his full height. His mood as of late had been snappy at best, especially to Jamie, who was becoming increasingly more antsy because of Mako’s behavior, and an antsy Jamie did not bode well for your rose bushes. Even Roxie was sensitive to his frustration, having been avoiding the man for three days now and whining softly in distress.

“Hey,” you called out from the garage entrance, earning a short grunt in answer as he knelt back down over the bike. Even that simple noise sounded clipped. He hadn’t even turned to look at you, either.

“You almost done?”

The questioned earned you another grunt. Short. Clipped. Normally, such a response would have been enough to shoo you away and leave him be. You were determined, however, to fix the issue you had noticed straight from the source. It was just a matter of getting him to cooperate.

You moved further into the garage and came around the side of the large bike, taking in the shining appearance of it before setting your eyes on your larger partner, who had taken to running a semi-clean cloth over the recently waxed shell. You could see the fine sheen of sweat along his skin and the slightest smudge of grease along his brow, and though it wasn’t particularly too warm outside, Mako had been working relentlessly for two-plus hours. He needed a break.

“Mako,” you called out, voice light and almost too quiet. For a moment, you thought he hadn’t heard you, but after another beat of silence, he looked up with weary, frustrated eyes.

“What do you want?” he asked gruffly, and you had to remind yourself that, despite his tone, he wasn’t angry, not at you or Jamie. You knew what the issue was, and you wanted to help.

“Just a moment of your time,” you replied, just as softly as before. “An hour or two, if you're willing.”

Another grunt, though this one seemed more affirming than anything else you were getting from him. His lips turned down further, however, almost as if he were upset.

“Rat?”

“Jamie’s fine. He won’t bother you for a while yet. Think he got the hint to leave you be, for now.”

While it wasn’t the intended effect, Mako’s brow furrowed at your words, and his frown deepened. It was further proof that he hadn't intended to hurt Jamie's feelings or shove him aside earlier that morning. You didn’t want to project too much on just an expression, however, nor did you want to bring it up at the moment, but Mako never intentionally made to hurt Jamie in any way, no matter how frustrating the sporadic Junker could be.

“C'mon, big guy. Come inside. I’ve got something that’ll help you out. Promise it’ll be worth your time.”

A beat of silence and an affirming hum had a smile lighting your face. You reached for his large hand, only for him to pull back just as your fingers made contact with his skin.

“Dirty,” he mumbled, looking down at his stained palms for a brief moment. You swore you could feel your heart flutter at the kind thoughtfulness. Despite his disgruntlement, he was still being mindful of silly little quirks he kept.

“I don’t mind,” you said, now reaching with both hands to take hold of just one of his, this time meeting no resistance. “I don’t mind a little dirt and grease. Its almost permanently etched into Jamie's skin, with as much as he tinkers. This isn’t any different, or any worse.”

He seemed placated by your answer as well as your touch, and when you pulled lightly on his hand, he followed the motion, standing once more to his full height with just the barest grimace and allowing you to pull him inside.

One victory down.

You led him through the house and down the long hallway that entered into your shared bedroom, ushering him in and toward the connected bathroom soon after. You had caught a brief glance of Roxie snoozing on the bed, ears perking just a bit as you entered the room. You’d have to shoo her off, at least for a little while.

“Go ahead and have a shower. Take as long as you like, I’m in no hurry, but don’t bother with a shirt when you’re done.”

There was a brief flash of frustration that crossed Mako's features, but you were quick to sooth it away with a gentle smile and a lingering kiss to his rough knuckles.

“It’ll be worth it,” you assured once more, and that seemed to be enough for him to follow through with your suggestion. He reached for a change of clothes before heading into the bathroom, the door shutting with a resound click. Only when you could hear the water running were you satisfied with your plan's progress enough to continue preparing what you needed.

It took a relatively short time to find what you needed, maybe five minutes in total, and running Roxie off was relatively easy with a few treats offered up. You then washed your hands of any residue left behind by Mako's own and waited another twenty minutes after, patiently reading a book with your gathered items placed beside you on the comforter.

When Mako finally emerged from the bathroom, clean and looking marginally more relaxed and comfortable in his checkered lounge pants and a towel thrown around his bare shoulders, you couldn’t help but smile. You were pleasantly surprised to see the slightest lilt of his lips in return, and it only made your smile brighten. It was much better than the frown he'd had not but half an hour earlier.

“Have a seat, right here,” you said, patting the edge of the bed as you shuffled more towards the middle. Mako made no fuss with the request, moving to sit where you had motioned while looking over his shoulder at you.

“What're you doing?” he asked curiously, voice grumbly, but not harsh like before.

“Well,” you began, planting a light kiss on his beefy shoulder as you reached for the towel around his neck, carefully running it over the silver-white strands of his still-damp hair, “I’m gonna finish drying your hair for you. Then I’ll braid it real nice, and then, I’m going to give you a back massage.”

“Why?”

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Your back, I mean. Probably been bothering you for a while, but recently, it’s been getting harder to keep it to yourself.”

You reached for the brush you had set aside earlier on the bed, the fine bristles moving through his hair easily enough. Parting the strands required minimal effort, and the braid you started up was tight, but comfortable.

“It’s why you’ve been snappy recently, isn’t it? I know you don’t mean to be, not with me or Jamie or even Roxie.”

You continued the braid and tied off the end upon its completion in silence, knowing Mako was thinking over your words as well as his particularly crummy mood the past week or so. While he contemplated, you shuffled a bit to the side to reach for the other item you had placed off to the side, a bottle of calming lotion you often used on your stiff knee. It smelled great and helped relieve any aches you acquired during the day.

Popping the cap, you squeezed a decently sized dollop into your palm, rubbing the lotion between your hands for a moment before reaching for your partner's back. Mako made no move when you made contact with his skin, though he did give a slight huff when you pushed into the stiff muscles of his broad shoulders after spreading out the lotion across the wide expanse of his skin.

Being light in your touch would do no good due to Mako's large build, so you were sure to stay firm with each stroke into and across stiff muscles. There was tension in his shoulders and along his neck, and you took special care to ensure each knot had been loosened and smoothed away.

Midway down, you had to use more pressure, relying on your knuckles and the lower base of your palm to glide down and away from his spine, digging a bit harder into tender areas and being mindful of more sensitive, fattier tissue. It seemed the lower you moved, however, the more tightly wound his muscles were, and a test of firm pressure against his lower back had an almost vicious, rumbling sound escaping his throat without warning.

“Sorry, sorry,” you were quick to apologize, knowing you had already tested his patience enough. He settled after a moment, however, and you resumed your attempt at massaging away the tension with a relieved sigh. You only sought to help, not to hurt him more.

“You know,” you began quietly, sitting more firmly on your bent legs as you carefully worked up the pressure along his lower back, “I can do this for you anytime you need me to. I’m not the greatest at it, I know, but I can at least make some of the pain go away. You must have been aching for weeks, Mako.”

The truth was in his silence on the matter, just as much as in the tension you had been working loose for nearly half an hour. There was no way all of that had built up in just a few days' time, not with how knotted his muscles had previously been. If you could help it, you would make sure that he never had to suffer such pains again.

You continued for another ten minutes or so, having finally worked up to a full pressure against his lower back, once again spreading out from his spine as well as carefully working along either side of it, where the aches seemed more prominent with your focus. Mako only gave a few grunts at the uncomfortable pressure before relaxing more fully, allowing you to really get at the knotted up areas.

“Almost done,” you assured, taking that moment to reach for your lotion once more and adding a little extra to glide over his back. You checked over all the areas that had been worse off, finding with satisfaction that you had worked out most of the kinks and cricks. You made several mote passes over his skin until the lotion was completely absorbed, leaning forward to press a few lingering kisses between the blades of his shoulders.

“Okay, you’re good to go, big guy. I got you a bottle of water if you're- ah, shit!”

You practically crumpled forward at the searing pain that shot through your knee and down your leg, just barely catching yourself against Mako, who had nearly shot up at your sudden, pained shout.

“I’m good, I'm…I’m good,” you told him through clenched teeth as he stood to face you, your hands clutching at your thigh while attempting to maneuver your legs from beneath you. “Just…pulled it wrong, I think, or had pressure on it for too long. Damn knee!”

His hands were slipping beneath your thighs and pulling you up before you could process the movement, allowing your legs to straighten out with minimal effort on your part. There was a loud pop from your busted knee that had you cringing and humming in discomfort. Mako mirrored your hum as he placed you on the edge of the bed, and for a moment, you thought that him lifting you had twisted his back in some way. The look he was giving you showed no pain, however, only sympathy and understanding. This wasn’t the first time your knee had acted up, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

Slowly, Mako dropped to kneel before you, and you gave a panicky wave of your hands.

“Mako, no, I can take care of it-”

“Be still,” he spoke, voice rumbling, but no heat behind the mild warning. Breathing in deeply, you gave a short nod, flinching out of reflex than any actual pain when his hand gently pressed against your leg. His palm slid over your calf carefully, fingers grazing your kneecap almost delicately. He pressed against the tender area lightly as his fingers circled around the area. Whatever had been the issue, the popping had solved, though not without leaving a reminder of its nature.

“Swollen,” he muttered, comparing the noticeable swell of your busted knee compared to your other one.

“It's not too bad,” you commented, though a firm frown from your partner had you comparing your knees once more. “Okay, maybe it’s a bit worse off. Guess it’s a good thing I put a roast on for dinner earlier. Probably won’t be walking around for a bit.”

You smiled despite the turn of events and delighted in having the gesture returned, more subtle-like, by Mako. He stood back to his full height, rolling his shoulders back with a sigh through his nose that seemed relaxed.

“Stretches.”

And there went your smile.

“Really? Do I have to?” you practically whined, huffing at the look you were being given.

“You'll get stiff if you don’t.”

“Ugh, fine,” you lamented, crossing your arms and falling back until you were lying on the bed. You wiggled back just enough to prop your feet on the edge, noticing that your knee was already trying to not cooperate with you. Mako was there to lend a helping hand, carefully helping guide your leg into the position you wanted it.

From your vantage point, you could see the massive man looming over you, gentle hands on your stiff leg and the barest hint of a smile on his relaxed face. He leaned in and pressed his lips to your bad knee, and your heart swelled at the action.

“Thank you,” he murmured, and you were smiling all over again.

“Don’t thank me just yet. We still gotta get my leg in order. And then we need to find Jamie, so you can apologize.”

His affirming, grumbling hum of an answer was all you needed to hear. Things would finally work out, and your house would finally be back in order.

“Ah, shit, that’s no fun, damnit!”

Well, if you could manage to move after your stretches, of course.

Chapter Text

Being the daughter of a business owner, one that was highly distinguished for their professionalism and high-quality goods, had its pros and cons.

There were constant streams of other competitors trying to discredit or smear your mother’s company into the dirt just to come out on top, though they always fell through, thanks to the company's impeccable P.R. team. Then there was the constant flux of partners to enemies to partners once more, and the cycle continued time and again as new owners took over and company interests twisted in favor of profit over quality. The death threats weren’t anything new, either, and your mother was constantly dragging you out into the public eye via massive parties and media events to prepare you for the day you would inevitably take over her duties. Despite all the hectic and deadly happenings, there were many good things to come out of it.

Such as tagging along and meeting up with the newly reformed Overwatch to arrange a partnership with shared interests.

The group was strictly hush-hush for the time being, for obvious reasons. But your mother had been on good terms with many of the members, including Winston, who had reached out in his need for assistance when it became apparent that they just didn’t have all the equipment they needed. When she asked for you to join her, you were all too happy to follow along, though hardly for any business, regardless of the nicer suit attire she insisted you wear “for professionalism's sake.”

Already, you had seen a couple of familiar faces from before the disbandment. Winston, of course, was happy to see you and had insisted you have a look around while he and your mother talked about some finer business details you definitely had no further interest in. Jesse McCree had been an absolute surprise to stumble upon afterward, and your rush to hug the man was met with open arms and a deep, amused chuckle. If anything, he was equally as happy to see you again, if a bit surprised.

“Can’t believe it’s been a whole six years!”

“Sure don’t feel like it,” McCree commented, giving you a once over before smiling gently. “You sure made a mighty fine young woman, darlin'. Bet your mama's proud.”

“Not sure if ‘proud’ is the right word,” you said with a grin, “but it’s definitely close. Loath as I am to admit it, I’m really getting used to helping out with the company.”

“Still not wantin' to take it over, then?”

“Not really. It just doesn’t interest me. I want to do things differently, help in other ways. Big business just isn’t my thing.”

“I understand ya, plenty,” Jesse said with a nod.

“Yeah, wish my mom did,” you lamented, smiling despite the somber tone of your words. “Enough about that, though. I’m more interested in where you’ve been off to!”

Playing catch-up felt easy, almost as if the world hadn’t separated you from such a dear friend for so many years. There were so many things that had happened between the breakup of Overwatch and its recall, and there were no doubt countless stories McCree would be telling you in the foreseeable future. He even had a hilarious story about two of your best friends, a sibling pair you had kept in touch with for a while, but hadn’t heard from in well over a year's time, and pointed you in their direction toward the labs, much to your delight.

“You remember the way, darlin'?”

“Sure do! Thank you, Jesse! I’ll see you around?”

“Look forward to it,” he assured with a tip of his hat, and with a final hug, you were on your way to reunite with more of your friends.

About a third of the way around the base had you passing the cargo bay. The massive doors were locked up, most likely not having been used quite yet since the reform, and the enormous space was taken up by two helicarriers, both still in descent condition, from what you remembered seeing of them. Along the walls were stacks of boxes, most holding dust atop them while others looked like they had been scavenged through recently, possibly for parts to other equipment around the base.

The area itself wouldn’t have caught your attention, had you not heard a scuttling noise coming from between the two carriers and the quiet, barely contained sound of a giggle. It was enough to catch you off guard, to make you stop in your tracks and move closer, peering into the darker area for a sign of someone within.

“Hello?” you called out, hearing another shuffle of something and the top of metal against metal. A strange scratch of something rough sounded off, followed closely by the glow of a tiny light you could barely make out.

Was…was that a flame?

The sound of metal was more prominent, heavier in your ear as the flame, now filled with sparks, came at you quickly and without warning. You stepped out of the way with a small shout, following the path to find a steel-grey orb with a crude, grinning smiley face painted on It in bright yellow, and a dwindling flame eating up the fuse twine attached to it.

Oh…oh, that was a bomb.

Nearly as soon as you realized the immediate danger you were in, you were yanked roughly to the side and farther into the cargo bay, large hands all but manhandling you behind some boxes. Not but a second later, the bomb exploded, shaking the floor and rattling some of the boxes from their taller stacks.

With ringing ears and a pounding heart, you looked around with a spinning vision, having to blink a few times to focus your gaze and see the damage that had been caused. There wasn’t much, just some black markings from where the bomb had initially landed and detonated, but had you been where you’d stood previously, things could have been much worse on your end.

You looked up at your savior…only to have to really look up at the massive man towering over you. He must have easily been seven feet tall, with a large, rounded, tattooed belly and a gas mask that seemed almost unsettling. He was intimidating, this large man, probably even scary, in his own right. Never before had you seen such a man. You couldn’t help but stare up at him in awe and bewilderment.

It was then that he looked down at you, head tilting just slightly to the side. It was impossible to read him just from the minimal movement, but he surely didn’t appreciate your gawking, and your brain fumbled as your mouth tried to form words into an apology.

“I didn’t…I mean, I wasn’t…that was…ah, you’re really-”

“Hey, that was some quick moving on your part, Hog! Good thinkin', and all. Can’t have us getting kicked out just yet!”

You turned at the accented voice, finding yet another incredibly tall man approaching. He was intimidating in a completely different way, his bare chest strapped with a harness covered in several contraptions, most looking like makeshift bombs of some sort, and some kind of massive, spiked tire looped across his back. He had two prosthetics, both of which looked…well, they definitely weren’t top of the line, and, ah-

“Your hair…is on fire.”

The blond man gave a strong twist of his face as his gaze looked up, unable to actually see the flames, but trying nevertheless. He gave a high-pitched giggle before his gloved hand reached up and snubbed out the flames in his singed hair.

“Happens a lot! Can’t say it doesn’t come in useful, right, mate?”

He turned his beaming, sharp grin up at the larger man, only to frown immediately when his strangely golden eyes met the mask-covered gaze.

“What? Not good?”

His frown turned into a look of exasperation as the quiet, large man continued to stare silently at him. Lithe arms crossed over his chest as his stance shifted to his good leg.

“I was just testing, is all! Gotta be ready, if this Oven-watcher-whatever business is gonna fall through. Can’t have me touch just wither away because no one can appreciate a good explosion around here.”

More silence from the quiet man, though it seemed that he was easily understood by his thinner counterpart. This time, the blond gave an angry pout, hunching in on himself briefly before standing up straight and puffing out his chest in a defiant manner.

“I wasn’t starting trouble! I’m bored! I needed a little pick-me-up! I need it, Roadie, I do! Didn’t even see the Suit when I threw it. Besides, it ain’t like the sheila's hurt, right? Got all your limbs and all, yeah?”

He gave a waggling wave of his mechanical fingers in your direction, grinning once again as you stared at him. So, he was the one who threw the bomb?

“You…you just…are you crazy?!

He seemed surprised by your outburst, bushy brows burrowing as if confused by your question. Regardless, you continued to rant, the moment of adrenaline-fueled fear from the small blast coming out in the form of words.

“You must be completely bonkers to let loose a bomb in close quarters like that! I can understand accidents; accidents happen. But to knowingly throw an explosive literally into the hallway when anyone can pass by? There's an actual simulation room on the base for that sort of thing, you know! I could have died!”

“Not from one of them, ya wouldn't!” your attacker countered, looking just on the side of smug. “Might could’ve lost a couple toes, maybe some minor burns-”

You reached for the straps hugging the blond's chest, pulling him down and closer in your fit of anger. Despite the obvious height difference as well as the knowledge of how easily he could probably manhandle you, despite his incredibly thin physique, he was every bit nervous of your intense gaze.

“You almost hurt me, and you’re taking it as a joke? Well, you won’t be laughing when I report you to- hey!”

Your attention turned to the larger man as you were pulled back from the blond by your upper arm. His grip on you wasn’t harsh, but it was firm enough to grab your angry attention and focus it on him. Picking a fight with the likes of these two men probably wasn’t the brightest idea, but you were still being led by adrenaline.

“Oh, you wanna start, too? How about keeping your friend in check on his terrible ideas! There are better ways to go about testing bombs or whatever he was trying to do. Again, let me stress the simulation room that is literally several corridors over. Can’t recommend it enough!”

With a sharp intake of breath, you finally realized just how worked up you were getting and took that moment to breathe, placing your free hand over your thrumming heart and focusing on calming yourself. The firm grip on your arm became slightly looser, though the large man continued to hold you there, most likely to ensure you didn’t reach for his friend again. Your anger was quickly fading as you calmed, and when you looked back at the two men, you felt sheepish at the way you had acted.

Justified, but still sheepish.

“I’m sorry. That was definitely not the best way to greet someone new. On either of our accounts, I would say.”

The larger man seemed placated by your words, enough so that his massive hand unfurled from your arm, leaving the area tingly and warm from where his touch had been. At the action, the blond ma’am side-stepped a bit behind his partner, grinning almost nervously.

“Right-o, all's good! Best we, uh, be on our way. Time to go, Roadie!”

“Wait, please!” you started suddenly, reaching out momentarily only to quickly pull your hand back at the blond's slight flinch. His larger partner had yet to move since saving you from the explosive.

“I, ah, I really am sorry. Can’t say that was one of my best moments, there, and though I don’t feel entirely to blame for how I reacted to, you know, a bomb being thrown at me- I’m sorry. It was unprofessional of me to act so harshly without assessing the situation, and I hope you don’t mind a start-over.”

“A start-over?” the lanky man questioned, looking just as puzzled as he sounded. He nearly flinched again when you held out your hand, though it was a form of greeting instead of grabbing.

“I'm (Y/n) (L/n), an…uh, a representative, of sorts, for Clyton Resources and Company.”

“A company, you say? You part of one of them higher, uppity ones?”

You faltered at the question, hand lowering when neither man made a move to reach for it.

“Well, I guess? I mean, it's my mother's company, and it’s one of the leading resource management agencies out there. It's also ranked third worldwide for quality ore and mineral refining and distribution. Many industrial agencies look to Clyton for building materials. As a matter of fact, this base was built using-”

“Yeah, yeah, I got it,” the blond man huffed, arms crossing over his chest once again as his bushy brows furrowed almost frustrated. He was a very expressive person. “All you suits are the same, all flashy, and like to show-off to those below them.”

“I only answered what you asked me and was providing an example,” you justified, just on the side of miffed, eyes narrowing slightly as you looked down at the outfit you wore. “Honestly, I could care less about it, but you were asking me questions, and I’m more or less obligated to answer on behalf of my mom. If you’re actually interested, you can talk with her after her meeting with Winston.”

You gave the lanky man a good look up and down, very nearly turning up your nose at him.

“Might get a deal on proper materials for your less than adequate prosthetics.”

“Hey! I'll have you know these limbs were crafted with the finest finds throughout Junkertown! Crafted by me own hands!”

He looked just as miffed as you, and honestly, you should have left things at that, perhaps even attempt to steer the conversation in a different direction. It was a shame you were slowly starting to get worked up all over again and wanted nothing more to shut down this obnoxious man once and for all.

“Know wonder they look like junk! Probably couldn’t even figure out how to build a foot.”

“Ya got a problem with me leg, sheila?” he nearly growled out, taking a step closer. He seemed to have completely forgotten about his previous fear. You, in turn, took a step closer, hands placing themselves on your hips.

“Maybe I just got a problem with your disposition!”

“Oh yeah? Well, maybe I got myself a problem with you!”

“Yeah? What are you gonna do about it? Blow me up? Too bad your buddy already ruined your first shot at it!”

“You’re lucky the fuse was delayed! You would’ve be been blown to pieces!”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah!”

For a long moment, both you and the blond stared each other down, both attempting to intimidate the other into backing down. In that moment, you were quickly losing steam with the realization that you had basically messed up your apology with half-assed insults, all because your emotional state had been compromised via your near-death experience, and you had been easy to rile up.

You looked at the man, really looked at him, and noticed small little details you hadn’t before, especially with him much closer. He had the slightest smattering of freckles on his face, hidden from farther away from the smudges of dirt and ash that dirtied his skin. His teeth looked almost unnaturally sharp, and his eyes…

“You...have lovely eyes,” you blurted out, hand coming up to cover your mouth at your blunder. You had said it with the same force of your earlier insults, which sounded strange in such a harsh tone.

“Well, you…! Er, you…wait, what?”

The lanky blond looked rather startled at the compliment, just as much as you were surprised the words had left your lips. It was true, though. He did have lovely golden eyes, a warm amber in the darker lighting. You could only imagine what they would look like in a brightly lit room.

Without warning, a deep, booming chuckle left the larger man, the first sound he had made in your presence. His hand was pressed to his large belly as he laughed, clearly amused at the hard turn the conversation had gone in. His partner turned to him with an aggravated frown.

“Oi! What are you on about?”

The masked man quieted as quickly as he had started laughing, looking to the blond before looking at you. The thinner man looked over his shoulder at you, as well, and you felt like you were being put on the spot, their gazes feeling intense and inquisitive and calculating.

He grinned, smile wide and mischievous, no hint of agitation from your previous conversation present. Things had taken a sudden, unexpected turn, much like everything else in this strange meeting of two unlikely looking partners. It was enough to make anyone dizzy.

“Guess you ain’t half-bad, suit! Ya gave Roadie a good laugh, and between you and me, the big guy don’t have much of a funny bone.”

“(Y/n),” you reminded him, still not understanding why he kept referring to you as ‘suit,’ but knowing you didn’t much like the implication behind it. “My name's (Y/n).”

“(Y/n), yeah? Good on ya! Guess that means you’re off the hook.”

He gave a conspiratorial giggle at his own words, one that had you narrowing your eyes just a bit in confused caution.

“Been fun and all, but we got some burning- I mean, business, to, ah, you know…?”

“Ah…okay?”

“Good! Be seein’ you! Let's go, Roadie.”

The blond was quick to rush past you, his peg leg clanking loudly every other step in his sudden excitement to be anywhere other than there. His partner gave a heavy sigh, steps heavy. He made to pass you, then paused, masked eyes looking to you and enduring your gaze was on him before he spoke.

“Watch out, next time.”

He remained just a second longer before leaving you on your own in the cargo bay, following the path of his cackling partner until he disappeared altogether from your sight.

That was definitely the strangest, scariest, most confusing encounter you'd ever had with anyone, possibly ever. You were on the verge of a minor headache, you were certain of it. You were going to have to ask one of your friends about the odd duo, see what they knew about them.

Except you hadn’t even gotten their names.

Well, shit.