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Generally speaking, Y/N was not grandiose. They had miniscule subtleties in their ways, like how their fingers gently caressed the sides of a fork when eating smashed potato pizza. The way their smooth, bald head caught light. One of average intelligence would not be able to pick up on these, but McCree, who was duller than most, was certainly able to.
He was entranced by your every movement, each sway from side to side. McCree was a hot, gruff cowboy, but he had a dirty secret. He was a yandere. A yandere is a person who is lovesick; someone who has been driven to insanity by extreme obsession or love, thus resulting in abnormal behaviour if not violence. And he was in love with Y/N.
“Howdy, Y/N!” He said one delightfully devilish evening.
“Hi McCree! Did you need something?” You replied as you washed the aftermath of dishes from dinner. The water flopped about the paper plates, soggying but nonetheless cleaning it.
“Yeah, I was wonderin’ if ya needed any help with them dishes, pardner?”
“No thanks, I’ve got it covered. You’re welcome to stay and talk if you’d like, though. I always appreciate your company.” You patted your wet gloved hand next to you on the plush sofa you were sitting on. He took up your offer and sat down. He could smell Y/N’s unique scent mixed in with Dawn flavored dish soap. The aromas tentatively teased at his many nostril hairs and Drove. Him. Wild.
But he couldn’t let Y/N know that he was a yandere yet, lest he risk losing them. Nobody ever wants to be with a yandere. When he came out as one when he was 11, he was mocked and ostrich-sized from society. It left him all alone, in the wilderness, begging for a scrap of humanity.
He didn’t even confide in Winston after being picked up by Overwatch. He kept it secret from everyone in Overwatch, with the exception of Mercy. In one of his x-ray sessions, she found dark spots on his heart.
~*~Flashback~*~
“McCree, I am afraid I have some… concerning news.” Mercy exclaimed.
“What is it, doc? Is my smoking habit finally killing me?”
“No, that’s not it. Take a look here.” She handed him a screenshot of his x-ray and pointed to his small heart. She circled the discolored patches with a Sharpie.
“These spots must have been growing for many years. There is only one conclusion.” She sighed deeply, rolling in it with adele. “I diagnose you with… yandere.”
“Oh, is that it? Look, Angie, no offense, but I already know. I’ve known for a long time.”
“McCree, you know what this means, right? Statistically speaking, only 1 in every 1,000 yanderes finds and stays with a partner. You’re going to die alone. And I don’t want that for you.” She placed a hand on his muscular deltoid muscle. He could see tears forming in her eyes like the Pacific Ocean - and he was an iceberg drifting away.
“Doc, there’s no fixing that. And anyways, I’m used ta bein’ alone. Such is the life of an outlaw.” He tipped his hat depressingy and put his vape in his mouth.
“Let's say you've been a bad boy. Let's say, hypothetically, you've been a yandere boy even. Ok, and if you were a yandere, you could go insane, right? Then hypothetically speaking, you may even kill someone. Now, let's say you're also doctor’s patient. Now that we have established that you are both a yandere boy and doctor’s patient, I believe you'd agree with me when I say that you need help. Am I not correct? A yandere deserves a prescription, and as I am a doctor, you are my patient, so I am the one who must provide treatment.”
“Sorry, Angela, but like I said,” he smirked solemnly, “I’ve already accepted it. I’m a yandere and proud.”
~*~End of Flashback~*~
Y/N was waving their gloved hands in front of MCree, accidentally lubricating him with water and bringing him back to the present.
“You good there? You looked like you were spacing out.” Y/N seemed to be done with the dishes and was now polishing their bright orb of a head.
“I’m fine, was thinking about how cold it is.” He pulled his serape hoodie over his hat to conserve warmth. You cuddled up closer to him.
“Winston said the heating system broke. Torblet is fixing it, but he doesn’t know how long it’ll take.” You felt the temperature drop a few degrees in Celsius and the hair on your skin stood up like teensy tiny corn stalks.
“Whoa mama, it sure is chilly. Shiver me timbers!” He wrapped his yeasty shawl around you. “I’ll see to it that Torb gets a spankin’ for not fixing this sooner.”
“Hold on, I’ll be right back.” You muttered as you got up and ran to your quarters. You picked up one of the quarters and put it in the communal private vending machine. After pressing a few buttons out of muscle memory, a can of hot black chai coffee tumbled down to its doom. Catching sight of Zarya’s open door, you snuck in and pocketed one of her bearskin blankets. You ran back to McCree, who was awaiting you with starving eyes.
“McCree, I had an idea! I think it’ll be a while since the heat turns back on, so if you want, let’s have a sleepover!” You announced giddily.
“That sounds like a mighty fine idea. Though, I’ve never been ta one of ‘em fancy ‘sleep-overs’. What do y’all do?”
You pondered for a moment whilst your brain cells grouped together to form a thought. It hit you like a dump truck, which was coincidentally what McCree was sitting on.
“Why don’t we play a game of Truth or Dare?”
“That’s the game where you have to answer a truth or do a dare, right?”
“Mhm! But if you or I chicken out on a truth or a dare, we have to do a funky jig.”
“Yuck. I’m not the type to chicken out, anyway. Who starts?”
“I suppose I will. Truth or Dare?”
“Dare, obviously.” Both his eyes winked at you in rapid succession.
“Okay, I dare you to give me your hat.”
His mouth opened in shock. You’d ask him if he’ll chicken out, but you know he won’t for his pride. He drew in a sharp breath, sharper than the glare he shoots you. He hesitated with his hand on his hat on his head, and you glanced inconspicuously at his wide hands. If only he knew how badly you wanted them around your throat. You were secretly attracted to him, but you were afraid he was a yandere. Y/N didn’t like yanderes because they kinda kill people. However, even more secretly, you liked the danger and thinking about McCree suffocating you caringly made you blush down to your little toes.
He shifted and flipped his hat onto your bare head. “Take care of Hatherine McCree,” he jived.
“Thank you, cowboy. Your turn now.”
“Truth or Dare?”
“Truth.”
“Ok, let me think.” He didn’t know what to ask you. He thought you would pick dare, and then he would dare you to do something to increase the sexual tension, like how games of Truth or Dare should be like. Thus, he must use the one foolproof truth question:
“Who do ya like?”
“Like as in… romantically attracted to?”
“Indeed.” He felt very smug and intelligent, like Rick Sanchez.
Meanwhile, your brain was going into overdrive. You did not want to admit you liked McCree. Everyone would make fun of you. Furthermore, you didn’t think he would like you back (you were too satanist). All you could do was lie.
“Don’t tell anyone, but I am covertly soliciting Hanzo Shimada.”
“Wtf,” he screamed.
Upon the utterance of his name, Hanzo Shimada arrived swiftly to the kitchen. “Sorry, I heard my name. I did not mean to interrupt anything.” He put his bow back in his shoe.
You stood up. “Oh shit, hi Hanzo.”
But Mcree wasn’t having it. “It’s high noon.” He growled.
Hanzo was caught off-guard and died. The blood discharged out his skull like smashed potatoes.
“Jesse M C Cree! Why did you kill Hanzo?”
He scoffed. “Don’t frickin’ mess with me. I will unleash horrors that the world isn’t ready to see. Your next.”
“Nooooo McCree! I just want to know why you killed Hanzo!”
His eyes turned red and he grabbed your throat. He started chocking your airway and you could not breathe, unfortunately. You wondered what made him go off. You balled your fists and tried to catch air to swallow. It didn’t work and you slowly turned Widowmaker-blue. Your strength squirted out of your dying body when he let go of you.
In an attempt to breathe again, you began coughing and hacking. He noticed you were hacking and took your phone away from you. Then he punched your face.
“Ow what was that for?”
“That was for having the hots for Hanzo Shimada.” Hanzo almost ran to the kitchen, but was dead.
“What’s wrong with being romantically attracted and/or sexually attracted to Hanzo Shimada, Overwatch agent and friend? Many people are.” McCree revolver-whipped your large cake, sending you flying.
“Take a guess, Y/N-senpai.”
MCRee stood over you menacingly. He reloaded his gun and pointed it at you. Why was he doing this?
It dawned on you.
“You… you’re a yandere, aren’t you?”
“Yes.” He removed the safety and pulled the trigger. “And proud.”
BANK