Scourge of Overwatch (Junkrat X Reader)

2: Kaboom!

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'Yesterday was definitely hectic.' You think to yourself when you wake from sleep. You stretch and lazily prop your head up on the headboard of your bed. The dormitory definitely was impressive. You stand up and begin to freshen up, you have quite the starting workload.

As you button up your top, your mind wanders. 'What if I took Junkrat's offer up?' You shake your head and retch. 'Disgusting.' You correct yourself mentally. Time to head down for breakfast.

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You timidly step into the busy and full mess hall. You nervously look about, holding a blue plastic tray in your hands. As you look about the famed heroes of Overwatch, you spy a familiar figure. Junkrat leans against the wall in the back of the hall, balancing himself on his peg. He seems to have taken in an interest in your appearance. He flashes a toothy grin and sends a wink at you. You grip your tray tighter and send dagger-like glances at him. Junkrat bounces off the wall and saunters to an empty table, placing his bionic fist beneath his chin as he sits. He gestures with a tilt of his head to sit beside him. You roll your eyes.

"I guess this is better than nothing," you mutter to yourself. You sit across from Junkrat, avoiding eye contact.

"G'day, sheila, How ya goin'?" he perks up saucily.

"Hi, I'm fine," you respond in a monotone. You look up at him for a minute, noticing how much he is enjoying this interaction.

"Oh no, too busy thinkin' bout me?" He laughs maniacally. What a psycho.

"Far from it, Jamison," you reply coldly.

"Woah, woah, woah, sheila! Ye' know me name? I'd say tha's a tad bit interesting."

"It wasn't out of curiosity. I saw several wanted posters around the Castillo."

His lips form a pout as he crosses his arms.

"Tha's no fun, tha's no fun at all! Ye' should'er been wankin' me off by now, er...?" Junkrat pauses and flicks his wrist as if to imply for you to finish his sentence. You mutter your name with a huff.

"Yeh! That!" He chuckles. You feel stares rest upon the two of you.

"Could you lower your voice, people can hear."

"An' why in the 'ell would I do tha'?" He grins. There it was. You caved in once again. Why is he incapacitating you like this?

"I don't know," You look away. He smirks once more and bites his lip.

"Eh, well whateva', see ye' around.
I got someplace to be." Junkrat stands up and stretches a bit before adjusting his bulge and sniffling. He gives you a little wave and cackles, limping away to the exit of the mess hall.

As he exits, three other famous Overwatch members approach you, sitting at your table. Reinhardt Wilhelm sits across from you, his huge frame creaks the table and raises your seat a bit. Genji Shimada and Ana Amari sit on both sides of you. Reinhardt looks around before leaning in to whisper.

"I think he's gone now."

Genji peers at you and pipes up.

"Do not mind Jamison. His words are filled with vulgarities, yet he is harmless."

Ana chuckles softly and places her hand on your shoulder. She has a firm grip.

"What Genji is trying to say is that Fawkes is a loonie who is too shy to act on his manhood impulses."

"Trust Ana! She has to recite this shpeal to the new female recruits every year! Junkrat is very persistent." Reinhardt heartily bellows. At that moment, your heart sinks a bit. Sure, the underlying intentions were repulsive but the fact that you we're lusted after was still present. It's unfortunate that you weren't his first "flirtee".

"Thank you all really, I appreciate this," you smile kindly at the three and stand up with your tray. Genji swiftly snatches the tray from your hands.

"Do not worry yourself with trivial matters, Reinhardt and I will attend to them."

"Thank you," you rush the conversation and quickly exit the cafeteria.

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You can't be late on your first day of work. It's just around this coridoor. This base is huge. Just as you turn towards the metal garage doors of the Gibraltar workshop, you are forced to a halt. You feel a strong hand grip your wrist. You hear a cackle. You turn to see a redfaced Junkrat. Before you could interject or respond, you are forced against the stone walls. He holds your hands above your head and parts your legs with his knee. He leans in and laughs a bit more. His breath reeks of alcohol.

"There ye' are, sheila."

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To clarify: "sheila" is an Australian slang word for woman (Correction by Stephanie B.)