HAPPY BIRTHDAYyyyy !!!!! HOPE YOUR DAY WAS SUPER SUPER GREAT AND that you got alot of presents and stuff and and i hope you like the drawing ! You’re one of my favourite blogs ;w;;;;;;; - super shy anon from few days ago (and if you want to post it then it’s fine ;w; )
Engineer Reader helps McCree with his prosthetic and he realises he has a crush on them. I had a bit of a rough day, so I wrote this to cheer myself up and not much happens but HERE YOU GO.
I was very sleepy writing this, editing did happen but tbh I probably missed a lot of stuff
WHAT IS ENGLISH
(Y/n) – Your name
McCree let out a grave sigh. He was seated at his usual spot in the Overwatch cafeteria, twisting and turning his mechanical wrist with a pained expression on his face. The wiring had been acting up –or something. He was no engineer but McCree knew something wasn’t right. Whatever the problem was, it was interfering with his performance as an agent. This morning, during the drills, he’d noticed his dodge roll was a little wonky. A by “a little wonky” McCree meant he’d crashed into several walls and a staircase.
He’d been sitting there for a good fifteen minutes already when you walked in. You approached the table and put down your lunch. At the sound of his name, Jesse looked up and gave you a quick affirmative nod. “(Y/n)…” he muttered, scooting over so you could sit beside him.
“Your arm acting up?” you asked, leaning over to have a better look. Unlike McCree, you were in fact an engineer –a nosy one at that, and a little bit too good at heart. Knowing this, the cowboy backed away, shaking his head.
“It ain’t nothin’ I can’t handle, darlin’.” He refused to let you fuss over him: too proud. Besides, he figured it wasn’t even that big a deal. After lunch, McCree planned on seeing Torbjörn about it anyway. So, he stood his ground and waved you off with a weak excuse of just being a little tired. However, despite the cowboy’s best efforts and the award winning smile on his face, you would not be detered.
“Jesse,” you groaned. “Just let me have a look at it. I promise, it won’t take long.” You reached forward, attempting to take his arm but he moved it out the way. A little annoyed whine escaped you as you attempted to grab the prosthetic again, only to be met with a blocking hand on your shoulder. You slumped back into your seat and crossed your arms over your chest, a slight pout on your face.
Jesse chuckled. You were as stubborn as ever, and while he thought that was kinda cute, McCree couldn’t have you worrying about him.
“Now, sweetheart, that won’t be neces–!!!” The cowboy was caught off guard when you slammed a screwdriver into his mechanical arm. (When did you pull that out?!) Before he had time to react, you straddled his lap –your back flush to his chest– pressing his prostethic under your arm to lock it in place. Your fingers made deft work of opening the maintenance panel and deactivating the artificial nervous system. The heat and tingly sensation that made the limb feel real disappeared all at once and his arm flopped onto the table, like nothing but cold dead weight.
“Make and model?” You asked, sliding the magnifying glasses from your forehead over you eyes; the contents of the arm instantly became sharper and you could better differentiate the components now.
“Uh O-Overwatch issued, Digit 2056-L1,” the man stammered out, still not used to the strange sensation of losing control over the mechanical limb. He tried moving it; it didn’t budge under your grip.
“Are you fucking kidding me, Jesse?” You looked up over the rim of the glasses and stared back at your coworker. “That model is ancient! When was the last time you had a check-up done? What about a software update? Hell, do you even grease up the insides regularly?”
McCree felt a faint heat rise to his cheeks. “Um, a check-up…u-update?” He didn’t even know that was a thing he needed to do. The cowboy figured greasing the joints once a year would be sufficient, but seeing the look on your face now made him feel guilty for not taking better care of it.
“No wonder you’re having trouble…”, you sighed. From your inner pocket, you pulled out a PDA and conjured up the software menu. “Listen Jesse, I’m gonna update your system and close this up, but after lunch you have to go see the grumpy IKEA-knome about a new model, a'ight?”
He nodded and watched you work over your shoulder. While the PDA managed the update, you took your time cleaning out and greasing the inside components. It was surprising how gentle your touch was. You knew he couldn’t feel a thing, but McCree got the impression that you were treating the artificial arm with the same care you would one of flesh and blood. The precision you displayed while working was amazing as well, and Jesse found he liked the way your brow creased when you worked on a particularly tricky bundle of tech. You bit your bottom lip and his heart made a little jump.
Shit. He looked away. If you didn’t stop that adorable nonsense soon, Jesse was sure he’d have a heart attack. McCree could smooth-talk his way into anyone’s pants, but here he was, blushing like a school boy because you were biting your lip. It also didn’t help that you were literally sitting on his lap in the middle of a crowded cafeteria. Why’d you have to be so darn cute? He scraped his throat and shifted in his seat a tad, careful not to disturb your position too much. After the red on his cheeks had faded, he dared look at you again and watched, utterly mesmerized, as you took him apart and put him back together again.
A good hour later, the update had finished and you were piling the exposed wiring back into the metal housing. Somewhere along the way, his human hand had found its place on your left hip, loosely draping around your waist. By the time you were done, you were absolutely covered in grease from head to toe. McCree had to resist wiping the inky black streak off your right cheek. It was a good thing one of his limbs was immobilized or he probably would have made this situation very awkward.
Warmth began flooding back into McCree’s arm as you rebooted the system. Taking it one finger at a time, he managed to start moving it again. “Damn, darlin’,” he let out, holding up his tech arm and playing with the digits, testing them. The rolled the joints and snapped his fingers, pleased at the lack of resistance he encountered. The movement was smooth and light, almost like he’d gotten an entirely new prosthetic.
“Well, I’ll be damned. Ya did a mighty fine job. Way better than Torb whackin’ at it with a hammer…certainly more gentle, if I may be so bold t'say. Thanks, (Y/n).”
“You’re welcome,” you smiled, shoving your equipment back into the work satchel on your belt. A quick glance at the clock told you lunch time had come and gone while you’d worked on the arm and you sighed. “Crap. Back to work, then.” You stood up, leaving his lap, and gathered your forgotten lunch. “You owe me a warm meal, cowboy.”
McCree rose to his feet and playfully tipped his hat. The better part of him knew he had to nip this crush in the bud before it got out of hand, but McCree decided to just say ‘fuck it’. You were just too darn cute to let slip; a little crazy (with the screwdriver stabbing and all), but cute nonetheless. With all the courage he could muster, the cowboy conjured a dazzling smirk and turned to face you. “Well, then I’d just have to take ya out t'dinner tonight then.”
He almost sank into the floor when you winked at him and gladly accepted his offer, just like that. God, you were going to be the death of him.
I’ve been staring at this fic all day and it’s not getting any better, so frickfrackfuckit. It’s been a while since I’ve written anything, so I hope you guys liked this!
What has happened to the FFXV fandom???
When I decided to take my break, I left when everyone was talking about how the chocobros would cuddle there s/o…
Now I’m back and we’re all talking about taking Gladio’ dick…
I’m glad I found my place… These are my kind of people, I’m not the only sinner, lol
God I’m a mess. What the fuck. Everything that I needed to happen in this book happened, people I wanted to see work together are, all my ships are sailing, and I’m the happiest person on the planet. Then I got to the ending. That was the most heart wrenching thing I’ve ever read. It was a brilliant book but I’m ruined now.
Im speechless. Idek right now.
Aelin I fucking love you, Rowan you have my heart, and SJM you own me.
i cant even explain how amazing it is to see such positive articles and comments about harry and louis right now. for those who have been around for a while you know there have been some really really dark times in the past when things like this didnt seem even close to possible, and seeing it happening now…im speechless