DanielandhisPants
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Five unexpected kisses and one expected one
Need I say more?
Bookmarked by DanielandhisPants
12 Jan 2021
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Time travel was never on Hanzo's agenda for the day, but as the universe likes to remind him, he rarely gets what he wants. Thrown 20 years into the future Hanzo has to figure out how the world has changed, where his friends have gone, and how to get back before it's too late.
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 18,318
- Chapters:
- 6/6
- Comments:
- 251
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- 1,021
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- 162
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Bookmarked by DanielandhisPants
20 Nov 2020
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"You ever hear a dragon beg?"
The question hit Jesse like a sledgehammer, cold and unforgiving, but he held that black gaze as the monster chuckled and tapped its masked forehead with a clawed palm like it was remembering something important.
"Shit, what am I saying? Of course you have. You two have a little thing going, don't you? Or did, anyway."
He circled around the chair until he was practically in McCree's ear, the stench of decay flaking around him in wisps of black smoke. He grabbed the man's jaw until Jesse's eyes were locked with Hanzo's passive gaze, and somewhere in the back of his head he wondered in agony if he could even see or hear them at all.
"I'm willing to bet it was better with me, though," Reaper chuckled darkly, shaking his head, "No, no, there's no comparing the way a dragon sounds when he's begging for death by your hands. It's the kind of thing dreams are made of. It's enough to give you chills."
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 175,482
- Chapters:
- 33/33
- Comments:
- 868
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- 1,296
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- 254
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- 32,582
Bookmarked by DanielandhisPants
01 Jan 2021
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McCree isn’t a good fella. A ‘good fella’ doesn’t get done shooting a man in the middle of the street and then waltz in a rickety old bar for a drink and then sit himself down like he hadn’t just ended a life. But here he sits, hunched over his whisky with his hat brim tipped low after receiving the said compliment from the bartender. The drink he ordered is half gone now, and the burn of his last swig still fizzles in his throat; but as he goes to chase it down with another sip, the barstool creaks next to him. He doesn’t stop to swivel his head, but it takes an extra second to raise the glass to his lips.
“You’re a good shot.”
The barstool speaks now, but he still doesn’t look over to respond. He swirls the whiskey in its glass and watches the honeyed liquid gloss over the sides before settling back into itself.
“Ain’t too happy about it, I’m afraid.” He responds with a grimace.
The barstool chuckles, husky. “Self-righteousness does not suit bloodied hands.”
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Two fucked up dudes. A bunch of fucked up moral codes. One mission: find a man, don't get killed.
Bookmarked by DanielandhisPants
07 Oct 2020