Scorch (Junkrat X Reader)

II: The unlikely recruits

(17:00, Watchpoint Gibraltar's dining hall)

After releasing his hand from mine, Reinhardt turned to address the crowded table. The different heroes sitting there all stared collectively up at him, the bright lights that shown from the ceiling illuminating the wrinkles, cuts, and bruises that adorned each of their weary cheeks.

I turned back to Reinhardt, who had begun clearing his throat to speak.

"Vell! It appears that everyone has made it home safely!" He roared, raising his fist into the air. The array of heroes clapped, glancing around at one another proudly.

Lena blinked in and winked in my direction, putting a finger up to her lips to signify that I keep her late appearance a secret. She settled in by Mercy and Reinhardt, neither noticing her absence.

I felt a gaze and turned to see McCree standing to make his way over to me. I blushed, smiling proudly. McCree was a very good friend of mine. He had changed quite a bit since I last saw him, his usual chin-length hair was almost down to his rough shoulders. He had adorned his usual scarlet scarf, it's radiant appearance piercing through the dull grey colors in his uniform like a flare in a thunderstorm. He couldn't have looked more like a walking target even if he tried. As he made it to my side, he extended his hand and bowed.

"(Y/n), it's an honor to be in your presence again darlin'." He stated, the traces of his Southern accent peeking out from behind his soft whisper.

"And you, Jesse." I murdered, dropping into a curtsy. He laughed.

"What's with everyone bein' so formal for?"

I scoffed. "Maybe because you're the one that started it." I lightly punched his arm and he drew a face, rubbing where I had hit him.

"What was that for?"

"For your smartass comment." I answered before turning to the table. He muttered under his breath and trailed behind like a lost puppy.

I found a deserted table and sat, McCree finding the seat to my right.

"So what have you been up to, Jesse?" I inquired, smiling up at him.

"Oh the usual, just poppin' off baddies and living the vigilante lifestyle." He stated matter-of-factly, his hazel eyes twinkling at me from under his floppy hat.

My face scrunched in confusion. "The usual? I don't think I know anyone that would say that's their usual lifestyle!"

He raised an eyebrow and I lowered my gaze.
"Oh right, you're Jesse McCree. You're that stereotypical 'yeehaw cowboy'. I was wrong, it's right up your alley!"

He laughed and removed his hat, ruffling his chestnut hair as he did so.

"I suppose you're right (Y/n), but don't expect square dancing lessons after you've made fun of me like that."

"You know how to dance?" I asked, laughing.

"Leaned it from my excursion trip back in the day. Texas sure was a wild ride." He leaned back in his chair and placed his boots on the table. He still looked well built and pretty good looking for his age. He was one of the few on my first mission to talk to me. I remember the first time I heard him speak. My mouth formed a melancholic smile.

"So where have you been kid?"

I snapped back to reality, looking up at him in embarrassment.

"Well... Nothing interesting actually. I had a job in my moms coffee shop. It wasn't too bad to be honest. Low key, no danger whatsoever." I sighed, fumbling for a glass to pour myself some wine.