Missing in Action || McCree x Reader x Hanzo

Chapter Thirteen: Runaway

Jesse McCree stood between your exhausting day and escaping from it underneath your covers. It wasn't particularly because you were tired but because there was too much information in your mind. You just needed to sleep this off.

"Move, McCree," you demanded. "I'm tired."

"Smart mouth," he chuckles but he doesn't move. He looks at you and his smile falters. He stares into your eyes as though he could see your entire day.

"He told you," he finally concluded. Your sudden downcast eyes was enough of an answer. The cowboy sighs.

"Come on," he says. He pats your shoulder and pushes you towards the other direction from your room. "If I know you enough it's that yer gon' brood in yer room. Let's get you somewhere more stress-relieving."

"My room is stress-relieving," you answer reluctantly but you're already being pushed to another section of the building. With his tight grip on your shoulder, there's no way you were going to escape now.

To your surprise, he dragged you to the training area where there was a padded section for potential fighters and physical training to cushion joints. He ushered you to get dressed and told you to meet him out at the floor.

You got in some comfortable sparring leggings to avoid it getting caught or used as leverage and a plain tank top. When you saw McCree on the floor, he was only wearing his brown shirt and jeans. Your concern was that belt buckle; if you guys sparred and he landed on you wrong, that buckle was going to cut into you.

Instead, McCree pushed his arms to his side and flexed the entirety of his upper body. You tried to avoid ogling the mountain of pecs that strained against the fabric.

"Come on," he smirked. "Hit me."

"What?" you shook your head, wondering if the sleepiness had caught up to you.

"I can take a hit, darlin'," he continued. "Now hit me. It'll make you feel better."

You hesitated for a second, wondering if this was a joke. But he stood there, ready and even his knees were bent to keep his balance centered. He wasn't joking; he was ready to be your punching bag.

You clenched your fist and thought about it for another second before giving it a testing punch. Your hand merely bounced off his body as you made an impact right on his sternum.

"You can hit harder than that!" McCree shouted. "Come on!"

You grit your teeth and hit him harder. This time, a small grunt escaped his lips as you hit the same spot.

"Come on, [Y/N]! I thought you were strong!"

You hit harder. Your other arm came in and joined the commotion.

"Hit me!"

With his direction, you were able to get some of your negative energy out. Somehow, this was working. And McCree stood there, yelling at you to continue.

It didn't take long when you finally got too tired to continue. Your final punch had you leaning over, panting. Your knuckles still on his sternum, almost wedged between the two major muscles.

Your head snapped up when you felt McCree's hands over yours. He tucked a thumb under your curled fingers and opened it up. He pressed your now open palm against his chest. You could feel his steady heartbeat. Despite the exercise, it was calm and steady.

You look up at McCree with a slight blush to your cheeks. His eyes looked down at yours with a kind smile. He gently stroked your cheek.

"You are so beautiful, [Y/N]," he murmurs almost lovingly. You felt yourself blush and you hated yourself for it; this man in front of you was a playboy. He couldn't know what love is.

"I regret not coming to find you on my own," he whispers. "Hanzo ventured out an' when I heard news that he possibly found your dwellin—"

"Wait, Hanzo found me first?" you interrupted. McCree paused and his lips parted to answer, but could barely make a sound. "So you guys coming to visit me and get me back...that was also just part of the mission?"

"Initially it was a recon for—"

"No!"

You yank away from his grasp and McCree let you go. You shake your head. Your heart was racing and your breathing was in short huffs.

"I still care about you!" McCree argued. He took a step forward and you take one back. "I wanted to come see you but I was under strict orders to not come an' find you because Jack thought it would've complicated more things. When Hanzo went behind our back—"

"It's all just a game to you!" you finally snap. These past few weeks. The years of lies. "I was a fucking robot! I was a toy to Overwatch! I was just a game for you and Hanzo to have your petty fight over who gets to find the golden egg first!"

"[Y/N], listen to me," McCree tried to calm you. His palms were upwards and out to welcome you in a nonthreatening way but you jerk away.

"Get away!" you yell. "You and all the other Overwatch bastards can keep playing your stupid game!"

You turn around and run. You were going to grab your gun and go. No need to change. Nothing. You had to leave. Now.

"[Y/N]! Wait!" you heard being shouted behind you. "Please, we can talk this through!"

But you already had your mind set. You were gone.