A/N: Who doesn't love daddy76?

Not suitable for work or kids.

***

"Mind your own business, old man!" You yelled at the figure chasing after you in the dead of night.

He didn't relent, he didn't show signs of being worn out. Even after you landed a shot on him, about which you actually felt bad because he hadn't tried to hurt you.

You leapt into the torn out window of an abandoned building and hid behind some rubble, holding your rifle close to your chest. Slowing your breathing, you carefully listened to your surroundings.

"You are my business, kid." Your pursuer called out. The sound of broken glass and debris being stepped on let you know that he was getting closer to you. "You're involved with a very deadly organization, and I need some info."

Silently, you slinked away from your hiding spot, making your way to the other side of the building, up a set of stairs. You used the large construction objects and materials to stay hidden.

Then you heard the sound of his heavy steps pick up and realized he was giving chase again.

"Shit," you cursed under your breath and picked up your own pace. You hit the top of the stairs and ran, looking around for another hiding spot. "I don't want to kill you, old man!"

You heard his low chuckle as you pressed your back against a wall and peered around the corner. There was no one on the top of the stairs like you expected.

Suddenly, you felt your rifle being torn away from your arms. Adrenaline rushed through your veins as you felt strong hands throw you onto your stomach. The impact knocked the breath out of you as your pursuer kept you imprisoned under with his muscled form.

"Old soldiers are hard to kill."

"Dammit." You gritted your teeth, eyeballing your weapon. It was too far away for you to reach. Before you knew it, you felt your hands being bound tightly behind your back. "Let me go. I'm not going to tell you a damn thing."

He flipped you over onto your back. You watched him as he crouched next to you, one knee on the ground.

His visor glowed a dangerous red in the dark. He had startlingly white hair, indicating old age. It was his strength that surprised you the most. Then, you noticed blood seeping through his leather jacket. "What's a little kid like you doing messing around with an organization like Talon?" He asked, holding your chin in his grasp.

"Fuck you. I'm twenty-five." You turned your head, freeing your face from his fingers. Your wrists were starting to hurt from how tightly bound they were.

"Little kid." He said each syllable emphatically then forcefully lifted you up to your feet by your arm.

You winced slightly at the the forceful tug. Then, you eyed the gunshot wound he sported on his lower abdomen. "Maybe you should be worrying about yourself."

Quietly, he made you move to a moonlit area of the room and forced you to sit in the middle of the dim lighting. Afterward, he picked up your rifle, clicked its safety on, and placed it on an old wooden table. "You wandered into the wrong building." He said as he placed his own rifle down.

You watched him as he took off his bloodstained jacket. His pallid skin held old scars, the most prominent one you noticed was on his face, partially hidden behind his visor. You realized that he was very familiar with his surroundings. And cursed yourself when you also realized that he had intended for you to run into this building.

He readied some surgical supplies and lifted up the hem of his shirt, revealing a bullet hole close to his hip. The wound was fresh as blood continued to flow from it, the crimson color stark against his pale skin. It was you that inflicted that gunshot and you still felt remorse for it.

When he proceeded to remove the bullet lodged within, you looked away.

He grunted, sounding like the procedure might have been painful. After you heard some clatter, you heard his breathing quicken. It sounded like the pain he was in hasn't abated.

"It's not too late to change sides," The old guy said with difficulty. You opened your eyes and looked at him with a raised brow. He was holding a device of some sort, which he deployed onto the ground. It created a glowing yellow circle around him, and the next thing you saw was his gunshot wound disappearing. "I'd hate to see a pretty little thing like you get killed." He removed his visor and mask.

You gaped quietly at him, marveling at how ruggedly handsome he was despite the several scars on his face. Even in the dim moonlight, you could see the bright blue of his eyes. Then, when he stood about a meter away from you, you recognized who he was. Your eyes widened and your mouth parted upon the realization. "Jack Morrison...?"

A flicker of emotion showed on his stern face before he approached you and crouched in front of you.

"But you're supposed to be dead..." You couldn't help but be overwhelmed by nostalgia. Your childhood hero was standing in front of you, his eyes still holding the familiar warmth from fifteen years ago.

"How do you know my name?" He demanded, crouching in front of you.

"Heh, you saved so many people, I guess you don't remember saving me over fifteen years ago." You gave him a wistful smile as you recalled a distant memory of a certain tall blond-haired man clothed in blue.

He'd saved you from falling rubble that would've crushed you and killed you instantly. You remembered it vividly because he sustained bleeding abrasions for holding you in his arms and skidding along the ground.

And you'd thought he'd died in that explosion six years ago. Your dreams of becoming a part of Overwatch faded a little because of it. Then, the organization itself disbanded a year after Morrison's supposed death.

As the years passed, the world grew more evil, you became jaded and joined the overwhelming majority. It was a survival tactic. There was no other choice, you told yourself.

And yet... Jack Morrison was alive and breathing, very close to you now.

"I'll tell you everything you want to know," You ended up saying, your voice just loud enough for him to hear. "On one condition."

"Which is?" He asked, his face stern.

"Sleep with me." You demanded fiercely, lust making your eyes glint dangerously.

He looked taken aback, not expecting to hear such a demand. "What?"

"I didn't stutter. Make me feel good and I'll tell you everything you want to know."

His eyes stared into yours, blood flushing into his pallid cheeks and turning them pink. Hesitantly, he asked, "Why are you asking me to do this?"

"Because I've had a crush on you ever since you saved my life." You admitted truthfully.

He shook his head. "I'm too old for you, kid."

"You're acting like I want to be in a relationship with you or something." You were being pretty bold, but stumbling across a thought-to-be-dead Jack Morrison was a once in a lifetime opportunity.

"Don't you, though?" He asked in his gentleman mindset.

"I just want a good last fuck before Reaper kills me for letting myself get caught," You stated plainly, without reservation. "And for blabbing about Talon."

He stammered. "I- I don't do ...pity sex." Then he continued, regaining his composure. "And I won't let that happen."

"When was the last time you had sex at all?" You questioned, choosing to ignore the latter part of his reply.

He answered you with silence, his eyes intensely gazing into yours.

"Tonight's your lucky night." A seductive smile tugged at the corners of your lips, one that he visibly reacted to based on the growing swell in his pants.

Your face was so close to his, you could lean in and kiss him, but you waited to see what he would do. To see if he was going to make a move.

Silently, he grabbed a hold of your upper arm and made you stand on your feet. "You're staying tied up."

"I don't mind a little kinky sex," You laughed, excited at the idea of turning Jack Morrison on as you allowed him to lead you to the nearby wooden table. You couldn't see his face, but you could see the bulge in his groin making a very noticeable outline as it twitched at your teasing words. He swiftly cleared the table top, the objects falling onto the floor with loud clattering.

He faced you suddenly and you could feel his hot breath on your face. One hand still gripping your arm, his other one pushed against your abdomen, forcing your bottom against the edge of the table. "You sure you want this?"

"More than anything in my life right now, Commander Morrison." You kept your eyes on his covered erection, subconsciously running your tongue over your lips.

He watched your face and almost groaned.

"I'm just a soldier now," He murmured then placed his large hands on your waist. Effortlessly, he lifted you onto the table's surface. You sat on your bottom, your hands still tied together behind you while your protruding chest was vulnerable to his eyes, and soon his touch.

You wanted to stimulate him a little more, and maybe test out how strong he was. So you looked into his eyes and said, "I'm not fragile. You're going to have to get rough with me if you want me to spill the beans."

"You may regret saying that later." He said, letting out a strained chuckle, feeling his erection becoming painfully tight in his combat trousers.

"Maybe when I find myself not be able to walk later," You smirked, keeping your eyes locked onto his bright blue ones. "But you'd have to fuck me pretty hard first, old man."

His eyes trailed to your lips. He ran his thumb gently over them. "Dirty words shouldn't come out of such a pretty little mouth." Without warning, his hands gripped the fabric of your shirt and tore it straight down the middle, along with your bra.

The sudden act stunned you and made your core ache even more with need.

He removed the articles of clothing off of your upper body, then proceeded to remove the ones covering your feminine parts from his hungry gaze. You could tell something had snapped inside him, control perhaps. And it pleased you to see such a man who exercised so much restraint was losing it.

Your hands still bound behind your back, you were forced backwards onto them. Your upper back flattened against the wooden surface of the table while your waist was lightly arched with your tied hands beneath you. Your eyes trailed down his face, studying his wide shoulders, the broad expanse of his chest that tapered down to his strong hips. But before you could get a good look of his hardened manhood, he lowered himself onto the ground.

He forced your legs apart after undressing you. "Damn, you're already so wet," You heard him mutter under his breath. He didn't give you much of a warning before he plunged his thick middle finger into you without meeting resistance. The small penetration forced a moan from you. When he withdrew his finger, your juices gave it a sheen in the dim moonlight.

You shuddered when you felt his tongue sliding over your clit, circling and flicking without reserve. Your moans intensified, becoming louder as his whole mouth closed over your clit and covered the lips of your pussy. "Oh, Jack," you closed your eyes and moaned his name aloud, finding yourself mentally praising him for being so... skilled. His strong hands gripped your thighs forcefully as he found pleasure in between them.

When he withdrew all touch from you, your eyes snapped open. And you wanted to whine and tell him to not stop. But you chose to watch him instead, your breasts rising and falling with your quickened breathing. He was unfastening his belt and undoing his zipper. His hand reached into the fabric and pulled out his hardened erection.

You bit your lip, wanting to hold the massive cock in your hands and taste the drop of ooze sitting at its proud tip. You mentally cursed him for not undoing the binding that imprisoned your hands. "Holy shit," You breathlessly murmured. He is huge.

"Still want it rough?" He watched you carefully, his massive hands sliding up your waist and abdomen to the swells of your breasts.

"You have no idea," you replied against your better judgement.

He shook his head and chuckled without saying anything. Then he guided his erection to your dripping sex, moving the tip up and down along the opening. Without warning, he entered you, his whole erection fully sheathed within you, stretching you.

The sound that escaped your throat was a mixture of a gasp and a cry as pleasure overwhelmed the pain. The feeling made you cum instantly as your pussy clenched rhythmically around his entire length.

Seeing the pleasure contorting your facial features, his hips began to move to prolong the sensation in the junction of your thighs. His thrusts were slow at first. Each time he pushed into you, it was forceful, shaking the whole table. Just as you thought he was about to quicken his thrusts, he abruptly stopped and pulled out.

"No, no- what are you doing? Don't stop." Confused, you looked at him with longing.

"I'm hurting you." He said, his fingers swiping away beads of tears at the top of your cheeks.

"I'm crying because it feels amazing, Jack." You let out a small laugh, amazed that he was concerned for your emotional wellbeing, too. "If you were hurting me, my pussy wouldn't be so damn wet for you. Don't stop fucking me. Please."

He looked at you wordlessly, seemingly dazed.

Truly, it was sweet of him to be concerned about you. Inwardly, you were giddy because your childhood hero hasn't lost his sense of heroism. But right now, you wanted a hard fuck. So you threatened him, "Remember, if you don't make me feel good, you'll get nothing from me. And I won't feel good unless you give it to me hard." It wasn't entirely true, but your threat did its trick.

The next thing you knew, you were flipped onto your stomach, bent over the edge of the table. And he entered you in one swift motion, this time, it was a lot harder than the first thrust. The different angle and force of his thrust made you cum, again. You writhed in pleasure beneath him and he didn't relent. He continued to fuck you, his pace fast and the thrusts hard and deep. The whole table rattled and shook violently with each thrust, as if possessed.

"Oh yes, Jack. Just like that." You managed to utter with each violent impact into your smaller figure. Your toes curled and you orgasmed a third time, your whole body trembling as your walls clenched tightly around him.

He groaned, then gave several quick thrusts before pulling out and covered your bottom with jets of his cum.

He used the table for support, leaning over your body to catch his breath. When he regained some composure, he took off his shirt. In a kind gesture, he cleaned his seed off of you. Silently, he released your wrists from their binding and lifted you into his arms before laying you down on the table.

"Aren't you worried I might try something?" You asked him, running your fingers against the indentations on your wrists. You tried to sit up, but the throbbing sensation in your pelvis was kind of incapacitating right now.

"No," He looked into your eyes. "What's your name?"

"...[Y/N]." You decided to tell him.

"Alright. From now on, [Y/N], you're coming with me." He stated authoritatively. "You're going to tell me everything."

You didn't argue and continued to listen to his bossy demands.

"And you can be damn well sure Gabriel Reyes won't lay a finger on you."

"Okay, on one condition." You bit your lip. This time you sat up with success. "Kiss me."

Surprise flitted across his face, making those bright blue eyes widen. But he acquiesced, leaning in, and placed his warm lips firmly against yours.