JUNKRADICAL (Junkrat X Reader)

The First Assignment (S1C4)

The morning after Junkrat's haphazard 'bath' was filled with nothing but gaping faces and surprised mutterings between the other agents of Overwatch. He was clean! Well, cleaner. One could actually see the fair shade of his skin and the darker chestnut color of his freckles - a fact that allowed McCree to reap the rewards of his correctly placed bet.
Junkrat, of course, was annoyed by the abundance of attention and his reaction to it all made (Y/N) that much more amused.
She was sitting beside Tracer in the Mess Hall, sipping juice from a worn plastic cup while she waited for her bowl of hot food to cool.
"Blimey! You can see 'is face! I didn't even know there was skin under there," Tracer giggled, glancing at (Y/N). "Sort of believed he was made of soot! Wh...what's that face about?"
The newbie smirked and lifted her brows, shrugging nonchalantly.
Tracer gasped and playfully punched (Y/N)'s shoulder.
"You did that to the poor junker? Wow! You're more gutsy than I thought."
(Y/N) laughed in the middle of taking another swig of juice, choking on the stuff. She struggled to catch her breath before remarking a, "Wow, thanks."
Indeed, she felt rather proud of herself for her accomplishment, even if it wasn't a completed endeavor. Unfortunately for Junkrat, giving him an entire sponge bath was not on (Y/N)'s To-Do List.
Then again, it was rather nice to scrub the bits she did get to. She wouldn't be telling him that, though. Especially since she discovered he could easily make her blush without trying very hard.
Tracer forked a few helpings of her own food into her mouth, then spoke again once she'd swallowed.
"That just means you two are now locked into a contest of sorts until one of you gives up."
(Y/N) cocked her head and turned to look at Tracer, raising an eyebrow to express her confusion.
"What makes you think that?"
The chipper young woman finished her meal and then flashed a smile at (Y/N).
"Well, I guess it's a hunch. Besides, only those that like a person will willingly bathe them."
(Y/N) felt her cheeks flush, then looked away from Tracer. She hoped it wasn't feelings for Junkrat that she had. If that was the case, then she deserved shame instead of pride. Who liked the junker anyway, right? He was loud and brash and full of himself. And fun. Funny, even. Sweet, when he wanted to be. Not entirely bad looking, either - especially when cleaned up.
(Y/N) groaned and shook her head.
"No. I washed him because he smelled like hell's garbage bins and everyone was complaining. That's why I did it. I barely know the guy besides that."
Tracer nodded, smirking at the newbie.
"Uh-huh. Okay. Whatever you say!"

Tracer then bid (Y/N) farewell, stood from the table at which they were seated, and left to dispose her lunch remnants. Allowing Junkrat a moment to slide in beside (Y/N) and take a seat.
"Mornin', sweetheart! How's the blush? Still there?"
He leaned against her, his shoulder pressing into hers enough so she shifted a bit.
(Y/N) glared at him, adopting the most evil of evil eyes to possibly get him to leave.
It didn't work.
"Wow, harsh way to look at a friend, Sheila. By the way, thanks a lot for cleanin' me up! It'll be even more enjoyable to dirty meself up again."
He rested his elbows on the table and propped his chin on the back of his good hand, grinning.
(Y/N) continued to scowl at him.
"Do that and I'll make sure to scrub you until I leave scratches with the damn sponge."
Junkrat laughed and bit his lip.
"If scratchin' me up is what you really wanna do, you don't have ta use a sponge, love."
He paused, stretching his arms upwards for a brief moment before returning them to their previous position on the table.
"Your fingernails work just foine."

Her cheeks lit up once again, and she instinctively buried her face into her palms to try to hide it. It didn't work, as it did the opposite, and incited a giggle from the Aussie beside her.
"Thought that moight get a rise outta ya! By the way, you missed everythin' below my hips, which is a damn shame. Oi was kinda hopin' we'd get to that too."
Her blush intensified and she hid her face in her folded arms, elbows on the table. Junkrat laughed some more, wrapping an arm around her.
"If Oi didn't know any betta', Oi'd say you 'ad feelin's for me."
"NO. NO I DO NOT. I DO NOT HAVE FEELINGS FOR YOU, JAMISON."
(Y/N) pushed him off of her, face reddened severely. She took a breath and tried to calm herself, looking away from him for a few minutes.
Junkrat, of course, was giggling at her, watching as she struggled to regain her composure. He could certainly press her buttons, that was for sure. And he did so very effectively.
"Yeah, nah. Oi think you're lyin' to me, buuuuuut...you know."

"OVERWATCH! ATTENTION!"
Both (Y/N) and Junkrat faced the front of the Mess Hall, where Winston and Soldier: 76 were standing, their stances official and expressions anything but joyous.
Everyone in the room faced the same direction, quieting down enough that one could possibly hear a pin drop.
"Right," said 76, arms behind his back. "We've received intel that a rogue Omnic dropship, piloted by a team of international pirates, is currently en route to ransack several towns in Russia's heartland. It's our job to take them out before they do any damage."
76 looked out over the crowd of Overwatch agents, nodding before he continued.
"This is a high-priority mission, as that dropship is aiming for the nuclear warheads housed in a vault somewhere in the area that we will be defending. If they get their hands on those weapons, there's no telling what will happen afterwards."
(Y/N) swallowed. That was a first, at least for her. They were going into the field to do something they possibly could not come back from. She had to admit she was nervous about it.
Maybe her anxiety showed in her face, because Junkrat wrapped his arm around her and didn't move it, even after 76 continued to speak.
"We will be leaving at oh-eight-hundred. Get some sleep, Overwatch."

(Y/N) took the stairs to the East Wing of the Crew Quarters, her mind abuzz with thoughts about the upcoming morning. Would she survive? Would she succeed? Could she even make such a mission and still prove to be a valuable asset?
She reached her dorm room, entering it and shutting the door as quickly as she could.
The walls were decorated in art and posters she had collected over the years, including photos from her mother and the very Overwatch Recruitment poster she had 'confiscated' nearly a month before.
A month before.
Time surely had flown.
(Y/N) couldn't believe all that had changed in that short time. She'd gone from a simple graduate to an active agent of Overwatch. Her mother constantly expressed how proud she was, and that she couldn't wait to meet her daughter's fellow agents and have a holiday reunion.

Will I even get to see my mom again?
The thought lingered in her head for a little too long, causing some pretty significant discomfort for (Y/N).
The girl moved towards the queen sized bed and took a seat, thinking for a little while.

She made an effort to distract herself, reaching for her closet to get into more comfortable sleepwear. As she was pulling an oversized shirt onto her smaller frame, there was a knock at the door.
"Just a minute," she called, stripping out of her trousers and getting into a pair of men's sleeping pants.
After adjusting her sleeping outfit, she went to the door, unlocked the bolt, and opened it to find Junkrat fiddling with one of the concussion mine remotes he normally had with him in battles.
He was surprisingly still mostly clean and wore a fresh pair of sleeping pants almost three sizes larger than (Y/N)'s.
"Oh. Uh...yes? What do you need?"
(Y/N) folded her arms as the tall junker stowed the remote into the pocket of his pajamas before scratching at the back of his neck.
"Just thought Oi'd check in on ya. Seemed a little on edge after today's news."
(Y/N) leaned against her door, looking him up and down before speaking, her voice tired.
"I'm a little nervous, I guess. I know we've been training for things like this, but," she sighed and rubbed her arms, feigning that she was cold.
"I really don't want to mess this up."
Junkrat cocked his head and gave the newbie a playful smile before gently prodding her belly a few times with his index fingers.
"Tell ya what; stick beside me an' Roadie an' you'll be okay," he giggled before his face turned into one that was a bit more mischievous.
"On one condition, though."
(Y/N) recovered from his half-hearted attempt to tickle her, raising a brow at him.
"What condition is that?"
Junkrat gave another small laugh before leaning in to kiss the girl on the forehead, making her flush in surprise.
"If we both survive, you have ta go on a date with me. Oi choose where."
(Y/N) was left speechless by the random sign of affection and couldn't form a proper sentence even if she wanted to at that moment.
Junkrat then snickered.
"Oi'll take your silence as a yes. See you tomorrow noight, sheila!"
He turned on his prosthetic and, while laughing maniacally, ran off to his dorm room.
Leaving (Y/N) a blushing mess, wondering what the hell had just happened.