HelpMe

[help-me-13]

Shion x Reader

You don't know who I am,

i don't know how to write fanfic,

here.

Shion x (male?) Reader

proofread: kinda

red is Shion. blue is you.

At first, Shion only kept you around because you were useful. Quiet but undeniably effective, swift and brutal with the execution of the tasks she gave you. Just how she liked it. At least she did to begin with, that, dare she say, admiration of your work slowly turning into curiosity. Then... worry.

And that? That was dangerous for someone like her.

It only really started when she realised you weren’t an omnic, and were in fact human (well, cyborg. But having one robotic arm didn’t exactly make you more metal than man, at least to Shion).

You had come back from a mission that had gone awry (thanks Overwatch), much to Shion’s dismay. Injured and bleeding yet still trying to keep up the front of the perfect weapon. It would have worked to if… you hadn’t have passed out from the blood loss during Shion’s lecture.

God knows how much time had passed when you came to, still in her office but now laid out on the sofa in the corner. wounds bandaged and a quite pissed off looking Shion in the chair opposite.

“What was that, hm?” she questioned, uncrossing her legs and standing from the armchair she had been sat in. Unholstering one of her pistols, she harshly thrust the barrel against your bandaged chest, causing a grunt of pain to escape your lips (even if you wanted it to or not). She leaned her face further in, eyes unblinking under her now furrowed brows. Shion’s throat lit up as she spoke, her next words catching you of guard.

“What… are you?”

You hesitated, not quite knowing how to respond to her question and Shion didn’t like that. She pressed her gun harder against your ribcage, a warning, ‘answer me’.

“Well? I thought you were better, but you still carry the burden of flesh… mostly.” She nodded to your arm before quickly returning her eyes to yours. The words still didn’t come. to be honest this was one of the first times you had been at the end of her gun, and it really was terrifying, you can see why most of the Hashimoto were scared of her.

“I-i… don’t know-”

“don’t know? Really now, you think I believe that? …truly, you are more stupid than I thought.” The insult was only followed by more silence, only sound being the quiet hum of her body as she hovered above you. A couple minuets passed before Shion moved again, she had run out of patience and was getting an answer out of you, one way or another. She moved quickly. Flipping the gun in her hand and pistol whipping your jaw, other hand grabbing your face to ensure you didn’t look away from her anymore.

“I don’t have all night. What are you! Human? Omnic? Tch, cyborg?!” Her grip tightened, exacerbating the pain in your now bruised jaw as she pulled the two of your faces closer…

“What façade are you trying to hide in?”

“…”

“You have already ruined my image of you… don’t make it any worse.”

“…I don’t know.”

“Pathetic. I would have thought you’d gain some clarity after that” Shion spits out, running a cold metal finger over your bleeding lip. She tosses your face to the side as she releases it, standing up straight again and sighing. It’s silent in the room again as Shion turns to leave-

“…one where I’m wanted.”

“What?”

“The façade I’m hiding in. It’s one where I can pretend I’m needed”

“That’s not what you just said. You just said wanted… so which is it, wanted or needed?”

You hesitate once more and try to divert your eyes, unable to keep your gaze level with hers. That gives Shion her answer. She giggles condescendingly as she lifts your chin with her fingers to meet her gaze.

“Aww, how cute… you want to be wanted? Really now, who would ever want you? You can’t even decide what you are…”

She crouches down so the two of you were eye level, pulling at your chin so you would look her in the eye, the fire seemed to have faded now replaced with… curiosity (at least you hoped it was). Her eyes traced a path from yours down, past the old scars and to the edge of the robotic limb that attached itself to your shoulder.

“This…” Shion mumbled, pushing your shirt the rest of the way off your shoulder. Fingers cool against your now exposed skin as she traced her other hand down to where flesh ended and metal begun… before grasping at the bicep of your false arm, judging the prosthetics construction.

“Where did this come from, hm?” there was a mocking undertone to her words, yet she still proposed the question with curiosity. She loosened her grip and she let her hand travel from your bicep to your wrist, further examining the craftmanship while she waited for an answer. When there was only more silence Shion sighed once again, not of frustration but of… disappointment. “did you do this to yourself? Was this on purpose? Or some… freak accident?”  a pause, then layering the mockery on thick she continued “or does someone not wanna talk about it?” a chuckle escapes her as she drops your arm, standing up straight again.

“Tsk, tsk, tsk… I thought you would have known to answer to me by now. Maybe some, hm… motivation?” there was a sly tone to her voice as she strutted over to her desk, pulling out a bottle of whiskey (the expensive kind, of course). She pours it into a singular glass before placing it on the low table near you.

“what’s wrong? You’re usually so… quick, always ready with a remark? I’m almost starting to miss it” Shion drawled, nudging the glass towards you as she sat down in the opposite chair, a small but in no way sincere smile on her lips.

You pick up the glass and chug, finishing in two gulps, before slamming it down back on the table. The whiskey burned on the way down, causing you to cough before you can answer. When you do answer, your voice is rough as you speak. “-explosion at a power station. Couple years ago.”

“Ah, now we’re getting somewhere.” “Mm… got left there by overwatch.”

“Explains the attitude I usually see from you” “so now I just need to be useful enough to you that I won’t be left behind…” “that’s…” Shion almost laughs, covering her mouth with her hand, composing herself so she could replay with fake pity “so pathetic, it’s almost adorable! Don’t worry, you are useful to me… keep it that way”

There was a warning in her tone, one that said ‘this is your one chance’ hidden under her sarcastic cooing. She stood with a sense of finality, turning her back to you as she returned to her desk, setting away the whiskey before briefly turning back to you.

“You are dismissed; you may leave”

you turn to leave, pulling your shirt back on and ignoring the ache in your body as you stand up. “oh, before you go… keep the glass. I feel you’ll need a reminder of what happened between us tonight.”

Authors note: i have another one written if you want it.