Scourge of Overwatch (Junkrat X Reader)

7: Jailbird Interlude Act I

You blink as all the memories of your first month at Overwatch floods your mind. Anything to numb the reality before you would be a haven in itself.

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Your mind draws blanks at the scene before you, a ringing lulls your ears as you blink uncontrollably.  What the fuck is happening. This isn't happening. This wasn't the direction this fable was supposed to traverse. You are huddled and wrapped in a safety blanket by Reinhardt, unable to form words you gaze at him. The staunch, elderly man appears to be speaking to you, but no sound emits.

"Stop, please," you murmur in anguish. Beads of tears roll down your cheeks as you choke on your words. "I'm not a victim, stop this. Stop treating me like a wounded kitten."

Reinhardt slowly places his large hand against your back, looking at you solemnly. You watch in horror as you spy Jamison being cuffed by Ana's daughter, Pharah. Your heart beat quickens, as you almost feel as if time has dramatically slowed. Through his badly bruised and bloodied face you manage to spot him grinning wildly. He glances in your direction and winks. He is pistol whipped in the face with the handle of Soldier 76's gun, forcing him to grunt in pain. You stand up shakily and attempt to scurry to his aid.

"J-Jamison! Where are you going? " you frantically laugh and cry harder. Just as quickly as it started, your reality comes to a crumbled state. Both Pharah and Soldier 76 escort him to a gated building.

"Don't. Stay away from that monster. What is the matter with you?" Ana blocks your path, her words sounding almost acidic. She narrows her eyes and firmly stands. You attempt to shove her, flailing and punching her.

"You all don't understand; you will never understand that man. He would never hurt me. He loves me. Jamison loves me."

From behind you, a familiar, dragon tattooed man grabs ahold of your sweater sleeve. As you object, he tugs back to reveal a gruesome sight.

"Are these the markings given to you by a loving man?" Hanzo sharply questions. Aside from a bruised, worn wrist due to restraints, there were also puncture wounds of needles as well as cigarette burns.

"Foolish girl, wake up. No psychopath is ever going to love you wholeheartedly," Ana adds.

You shake your head in disbelief, he could never do wrong in your eyes. Those were signs of possession, those meant that he loved you. You alone were crowned with this honor.

"Ana," Reinhardt pulls her aside, quietly speaking to her. She looks at him with a huff, then glancing back at you. "Remember he had drugged and kept her captive for months. He practically has her brainwashed into believing he loves her."

Ana disgustedly steps back from the burly man, who obviously shows signs of concern over you. "What excuse does that grant him? That just because the girl has been higher than a damn kite that her feelings for that heathen is justified?"

"You will never understand," you utter to yourself as you bury your face into your hands.

"She appears to be like a broken record," Ana peers at you.

"Unfortunately, so," Reinhardt sighs. "Unfortunate indeed."

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"Don't be shy, darl. Meet my buddy, Roadhog," Junkrat muses as he gives his friend a slight shove. Unamused, the big man replies.

"Mako."

"Giving your name up for grabs is no fun at all. You're such a cock tease, Hoggie." Junkrat snickers and rests his elbow against Roadhog's stomach. Roadhog grunts and turns to face you.

You smile sheepishly then proceed to shake your head. "Wait, no, what am I doing? This isn't time for formalities. Jamison! You son of a bitch." You shove the grinning maniac and march away to your room. The tall blonde follows you as he attempts to grasp your attention.

"Come on, love, stay a little. You'll love the big guy, promise!"

You turn and poke him firmly against his chest. "You snatched me in public, made a racist scene, and tried to fuck me all while your friend was enjoying a Wendy's Baconator sandwich! You're insane! How many times do I have to beg you to leave me alone!"

A frown forms on his face as he places his hands on his hips and looks down at his feet, teetering on his heel before looking back up at you.

"It's because I prefer the begging-on-the-knees type of deal, sorry," he coos.

"You're a sack of shit, Fawkes," you flip him off before walking away.

"You know you want me, baby, it's only a matter of time before I ram your pink cunt," he whistles. 

"As if!" You angrily fume. What a fucking bastard.

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