Overwatch ➸ Reader Insert Oneshots

Hanzo // A Brewing Storm

Prompt 94. Caught in the Rain

[Rating: PG13]
[Wordcount: 1138]
[Summary: You and Hanzo are both stubborn in your spats, and he follows you out into the rain after a particularly childish argument.]
[Genre: Angst, Fluff]
[Unedited]

Requested by: renwolf1200

     You were absolutely fuming, each step you took forceful enough to create tidal waves through the puddles you were plowing through. You internally cringed at the feeling of water seeping through your clothes and, even more unfortunately, your socks. You didn't slow, though—not with Hanzo stomping after you, red in the face and practically foaming at the mouth. 

     "You are being ridiculous!" he shouted over the roar of the wind and the pounding of raindrops hitting his umbrella. "Come inside before you get yourself sick!"

     You whipped around, drenched locks of hair swinging with the movement. "You're the only thing here making me feel even remotely sick," you snapped.

     "You're overreacting!" His eyebrows drew together as he caught up to you, extending the umbrella to shield you from the weather. You could see the huff of his breath fogging the cold air between you. 

     The argument was petty at its roots. He had come back to your shared apartment stressed about something, and you'd tried to get him to open up about what was bothering him. Everything had just went downhill from there. You were admittedly a bit persistent in your attempt at being supportive, going so far as to sulk and complain when he had decided to tune you out, but he had been the major catalyst.

     "You were the one slamming doors," you hissed. "Not to mention your incessant name-calling. You've been acting like a petulant child all night."

     "You're insufferable."

     "And you're just proving my point."

     A bark of disbelieving laughter left him in that moment, and he could only scoff at your answering glare. "What do you want from me, woman?" he muttered. "An apology? I hardly think I'm the one at fault."

     You didn't even bother with a response; you turned away and marched off, your strides long and quick as you tried to outpace Hanzo. You could hear a struggle behind you as he fussed with the umbrella against the wind. You respected (and almost felt flattered) that he had come after you instead of giving up and staying inside, but you didn't really want to see him at the moment—especially considering he was probably about as mad as you were. 

     "Stop," you heard him order from behind you. You kept walking. "Stop this instant!" You kept walking.

     You kept walking and finally saw them: headlights, dim under the mist of the rain. You couldn't process things fast enough; you could only manage to turn your head and watch Hanzo's umbrella tumble into the road beside you. Your heart stopped and you let out a scream that didn't feel like your own. You braced yourself to feel the cold, wet metal of the car slamming into you, and to feel the piercing of glass shattering into your skin.

     Was this it? Would your last words be nothing more than an addition to a lover's spat? Your throat felt tight knowing that neither of you would have time to apologize, and it only tightened further to think Hanzo would watch you die such a brutal death, eyesight clouded by the weather and his own rage. 

      But the crash never happened. Instead, you felt a rush of air as you were pulled out of the way, water splashing over you as the car sped past with a deafening honk of its horn. Your face was in Hanzo's now-damp chest, the fine material of his jacket slick against your cheek. You dared to turn your head and look behind you, your gaze falling along the mangled remains of his umbrella lying in the road. 

     You turned your attention back to Hanzo, eyes wide and heart hammering hard enough to burst through your breastbone. He was kissing you within the next second, harsh but needing. The movement of his lips against yours was frantic, and you found yourself leaning into him in a dizzy trance; if he had a soft side, you were it.

     But the moment was just that: a moment. As soon as he pulled away, he was stormy again, arms crossed and words biting. "You never listen and look where it got you! I can't believe I ever made the mistake of—"

     Warm skin and raised voices.

     "—you could've died and I would've—"

     Sweet nothings and slammed doors.

     "—if you were gone do you think I—"

     Flushed faces and backs turned.

     "—because I love you!"

     For better or for worse.

     You were tired. "I . . . I love you too. God, I just love you so much that I don't know what to do with myself." Your voice felt unnaturally high. "We blow up at each other over the smallest things and I hate it. I just wish we could talk things over instead of turning minor transgressions into declarations of war." You were trembling.

     There was a lull in Hanzo's anger, and his expression fell solemn. "You know I hate it when you cry."

     You hadn't even realized you were crying, but when you did, it hit hard. Your eyes squeezed shut and you in the next moment you shaking with the force of your sobs. Your voice was raw and croaking as you grasped at him, pulling him close and burying yourself in his warmth. Your tears were heavy and dragged at your face as they mixed with the rain. His arms felt like a blanket fresh out the drier when he enveloped you, a soft shushing leaving his down-turned lips.

     "I'm sorry," he muttered into your dripping wet hair. A thousand light kisses fell upon your forehead, a thousand more upon your jawline. Against your skin, he sighed, "Things can be unnecessarily difficult sometimes, but know that I always love you. Know that I can't bear the thought of ever losing you."

     "I know," you hiccuped through your crying. "I'm sorry too."

     A small laugh escaped him. "I've never heard you say that before."

     "Can I take it back?" you managed, a small smile pulling at your face as you took in a deep, steadying breath. You could only imagine how swollen and red your eyes were at this point, bitten at by both your crying and the cold weather.

     "Isn't your determination to save it for special occasions enough for you?"

     "Not so much special occasions as it is near-death experiences, is it?"

     "So I assume you'll never end up apologizing again?"

     "To you? Not if I can help it."

     He pulled away, taking your hands in his and rubbing the pads of his thumbs across your knuckles. "Not even for ruining my umbrella?"

     Shakily, you stood on your toes, tilting your head up and pressing a hesitant kiss to his cheek. "That's what reimbursements are for."