XaiJu
Cyberrat
Cyberrat

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Patreon Compilation – Fic#157 – OC solo – Fantasizing about McCree; NASTY; TW: Nasty; old cum and dirty bathroom and body odor – Disgusting

OC solo – Anon is part of the cleaning crew in the OW headquarters and nobody wants to fuck around with McCree's rooms when he is on mission. Except them. They're the nasty one.

Warning: Do not read if you don't like nasty and stink. Like nasty in the actual nasty way, not in the oh-you-so-sexy way.

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“Hey perv… didn’t you notice that McCree is gone or something?” Mike claps Anon on the shoulder, leaning over to look them in the face. They stare at them with wide eyes, sandwich halfway to their mouth.

“Huh?”

“McCree. He’s gone on a sudden mission. Didn’t you see the alarm?”

No. No, they didn’t. They put down their sandwich and hastily get up while Mike stands back with a wide grin, not stopping them in their haste to get to the janitor’s closet and pull out their cart from all the others.

After all, McCree’s room is a … special case and nobody really wants to touch that thing with a ten foot pole. Nobody but Anon, that is. He’s a nasty perv but also a nice person. It’s fun to tease them about how they get off on all the disgusting shit they have to clean up in the Agent’s space.

He only had to tackle that shit once. He’s had to retch the whole damn time. Goddamn but McCree is a nasty freak.

Good thing Anon seems to absolutely love it.

.o.

Anon has a bit of a crush on McCree. They don’t even try to deny it. It’s rare that they find someone as unapologetically nasty as the agent; he does not seem to care one bit about the state he leaves his rooms in every time he goes to take on a mission.

He must absolutely reek in normal day-to-day life. Doesn’t Reyes get on his case about it? They know that the Commander is a very clean person, always smelling very nicely of aftershave and sucking on mints.

They can’t imagine that Reyes would let McCree run around reeking of sweat and feet and sloppily wiped ass.

Doesn’t keep him from continuously leaving his room a hot mess that Anon loves to stroll through and ingest with all their senses. All of them.

The moment the door opens, hot, putrid air wafts into their face, leaving them almost dizzy for a second.

The rooms on McCree’s floor must absolutely hate living in such close proximity to him. Every time these gates open, they are treated to the unfiltered air of the guy’s nasty filth.

They inhale deeply as they step inside and let the door slide shut behind them. It feels like it should make a crunchy, crackly sound as it moves; like everything in McCree’s rooms, really.

Clothes are strewn about, just like old food trays, little gadgets and knickknacks. The bed is an unmade mess and the trashcan beside it bursting with a few tissues and a lot of old, used condoms.

Anon’s stomach growls, their mouth flooding with saliva as they make their way over to the bathroom first. They like to keep their absolute favorite as a last treat.

The bathroom doesn’t look any different than the rest of the rooms.

They can see from a distance that the shower drain is all but clogged with the fur McCree sheds in there whenever he deigns that a bit of cleaning is in order which is probably not often. Anon can only imagine the kind of thick, tangled bush the agent must have.

God, to just be able to stuff their face one time in McCree’s crotch and really get nice and personal with it…

They unclog the drain while staring at the toilet. The lid is up, of course. What they can see caked inside is even making their stomach churn a little… but there definitely is a good prickle of anticipation in there as well.

McCree seems just barely not feral. It’s like he grew up shitting in the woods and only grudgingly uses the toilet to dump his loads. He must forget half the time to flush.

It’s a good thing that Blackwatch missions take a few days minimum. Anon needs a good few hours of scrubbing to get the bathroom clean to regulations; mostly because they have to pause every now and then to just stand there and inhale and try not to rub one off with how excited the whole situation makes them.

The bad air condition has their head swimming most of the time. The air conditioning tries its best but it can barely put a dent into the putrid reek in the room.

If McCree were to ever get new lodgings, Overwatch would have to close off these rooms with a hazmat team and just declare them a lost cause.

By the time Anon moves back into the main living quarters, they feel a little weak in the knees. Their stomach keeps roiling and trying to empty itself; especially when they have to step back into the veritable wall of putrid stink that is present in McCree’s main living quarters.

Compared to this, the AC in the bathroom has really done wonders.

Despite the state of everything, McCree’s bed is more or less clean. They change the sweaty sheets and finger the fabric, though as expected, there is no old cum to be found. Even this slob doesn’t want to lie on crusty sheets.

Which brings Anon to staring at the bin next to the bed again. It’s overflowing with condoms, filled with all the loads McCree has rubbed out since Anon last visited his quarters to leave them spick and span and ready to be demolished once more.

They sit down on the edge of the mattress, staring at the many filled packages, saliva flooding their mouth and bile rising at the back of their throat. They can just imagine McCree barely bothering enough to pull the latex over the fat, bulbous head of his stinking dick so he has a place to pump his load into without dirtying up his sleeping space.

Anon rubs their hands over their thighs. God, they feel like fucking puking already. They can stomach a whole lot so it is rare that they still get so nauseous, but this time McCree really has put a number on things. The reek inside his rooms is disgusting, and the work they’ve had to do in the bathroom has left them a bit shaky and unsteady.

It’s not like they enjoy working this room. They are more than aware of how putrid and vomit-inducing the space is… it’s just that it still gets them so impossibly hot.

They’re ashamed of their own need; this gnawing drive to debase themselves with revelling in the garbage McCree leaves behind.

He doesn’t even know that this is happening. Does he sometimes wonder what poor asshole has to go and clean the fetid stains he leaves in his toilet? Who has to dig his pubes out of the drain so it’ll run smoothly again? Who has to see the many, many condoms he’s filled with fat loads and never bothered to put out himself?

Anon has no doubt that if left to his own devices long enough, he’d just throw the used rubber to the ground where it would land with a splat and stay until finally someone was in need of the agent’s expertise again.

No, there is no way that McCree has even a concept of the fact that some poor human has to clean his disgusting messes. Maybe he thinks that it is some robot’s duty… if he even thinks about it at all.

Anon has watched him from afar, watching the guy interact with others. He’s so damn laid back, it wouldn’t surprise them if he didn’t spend an ounce of energy to think about it.

They reach out a hand and grab one of the rubbers, lifting it up to their face to stare at the load through the thin material. When did he pump this one out? It’s right on top of the pack so maybe this morning? Maybe before he shoved his greasy ass out of the bed, he sleepily pawed for a condom to sloppily pull it on and fuck it against the mattress.

They’re about to start drooling; they’re so close to retching as they throw the condom into their own large trash sack, picking up the next. They could just upend McCree’s bin and be done with it, but they like to feel how much he has pumped in each time… try to figure out what kind of load it must have been. Early in the morning with full-to-bursting nuts? Or maybe one he rubbed out in the afternoon because he was just bored and didn’t have anything else to do?

Anon starts to finger the filled tips, rubbing them to feel the consistency in between, bile rising ever closer in their throat.

They’d have to thank Mark once they’re done in here. Usually they’re on top of their game when it comes to McCree-alerts; it would have been a shame if they hadn’t been able to do the honors this time as well.

Comments

That was... so dang well written! I *love* Nasty McCree so much!

Faust


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