ovrwotch:

late nights

Late nights with some of the boys of overwatch! Warnings: vaguely mentioned nsfw, mentions of pregnancy

Jack Morrison / Soldier: 76

“Jack?”

It wasn’t unusual for Jack to be held up after hours. Maybe it was paperwork, maybe it was restlessness after a particularly tough mission; whatever the case, he never seemed to fall asleep until the early hours of the morning.

He looked more tired than usual today, and you felt your heart ache at the bags that had grown underneath his eyes. He was always too hard on himself.

His brows furrowed as he took you in; the blanket wrapped around your form, the fatigue that you wiped from your eyes.

“______? Sweetheart, it’s almost 3AM,” he spoke quietly, setting his pen down. You nodded tiredly, before clambering into his welcoming arms and settling your face into the crook of his neck.

“I know,” you mumbled against him, pressing a small kiss to his jaw, “But I couldn’t find my soldier.”

His heart swelled and tightened simultaneously. You, too, suffered from your fair share of nightmares; he knew that he was one of the only people — if not the only person — who could tame them. “I’m sorry, baby, but this paperwork…”

“We can do it together,” you say groggily, picking up a page from his desk. “And then we can sleep. Sound good?”

He looked down at you as you read through the page you held, and a small smile grew almost unconsciously on his face. “Sounds good.”

Gabriel Reyes / Reaper

It’s exactly 00:01 when the lock on the front door clicks and shudders through the house — 6 hours later than expected. Like a bullet, you fly from the couch and out to the hallway, where your man was tiredly dropping his bags to the floor.

“Gabe!” You cry out, feeling tears burn in your eyes. You throw your arms around him and pull him close, throat clogged with tears. “You didn’t call — I — I thought—”

Gabriel holds you tightly, his arms wound around your back and clutching you like he needed you to live. He knew you well enough to know that you had most likely been waiting on the couch since he was expected to arrive — waiting for a phone call that would never come.

“Shhh, mi alma,” he coos gently into your ear, beginning to rock back and forth with you. “There’s no need to worry.”

“When you didn’t call,” you began, bottom lip trembling, “I thought the worst…”

Gabriel pulled back, placing a gentle hand on your cheek and the other down to the soft bump that grew within your stomach. Your hand ghosted over the bruises on his jaw and the scars along his cheek. “I will always come back to you both, mi amor. Never doubt that.”

Jesse McCree

It was nearing 11PM and he still hadn’t stopped. You stood outside the door to the nursery, leaning against the doorframe. A smile of tired amusement painted your face as you took in your husband, covered mostly in paint and masking tape, as he continued to paint the walls a light yellow.

“Maybe it’s time for a break?” You suggested, breaking the silence. Jesse turned to you, his eyes widening.

“Now darlin’,” he began, ushering you out of the room, “You know the paint’s not good for the baby!”

“Neither is his momma being stressed because his daddy won’t rest!” You argued, tugging at Jesse’s sleeve. You pouted at him, nuzzling against the side of his neck. “C’mon, Jesse, I’ll sleep better if you’re beside me.”

He glanced back at the unfinished nursery behind him.

“Your very pregnant and very tired wife is asking you to get some rest,” you pressed, raising an eyebrow.

Jesse sighed, and kissed your forehead. “Gimme ten minutes, baby. Ten minutes.”

Your eyes narrowed. “I’ll give you seven — and then you better be back, you hear?”

“Loud and clear, ma’am.” Jesse grinned, planting one last kiss against your lips before he disappeared back into the nursery. You sighed, rolling your eyes. He’d be at least 15 minutes — but you’d wait. You really did sleep better when it was him you fell asleep with.

Hanzo Shimada

You find him on the roof, gazing up at the sky. His bow sits beside him, and an arrow is perched in his hands. It’s much too late to tell the time, but the streets have cleared and left the world silent. You had fallen asleep hours earlier, after the few rounds of love-making had tired you out, and only possessed a dressing gown with which to keep you warm.

For a while, he says nothing. He lets you sit down beside him and rest your head on his shoulder, but still he gazes out into nothingness. Then, he speaks.

“I was raised to be without emotion,” he murmurs. You see his fingers tighten around the arrow in his hand. “I was raised to be dangerous and uncaring. I suppose I succeeded in doing so.”

“That’s not true,” you whisper back, kissing his shoulder. “That’s not true at all, Hanzo. You care more than anyone I’ve ever known. In your own way.”

This was a reoccurring conversation that Hanzo never seemed to understand. He believed deep down that you deserved better than him; somebody less dangerous, more emotional. Someone able to care for you both externally and internally.

“I wouldn’t want anybody else to care for me,” you confess, trailing your hand towards his. You took hold of the arrow gently, and set it down between you. “I’ve never loved someone as much as I do you.”

Hanzo looked down. He didn’t say anything — but he didn’t need to. You had learned to read him, and the tightening of his hand around yours and the narrowing of his eyes spoke volumes.

I love you too.

Genji Shimada

There were times where Genji couldn’t fall asleep until the next morning. Sometimes the whirring of his robotic parts drove him from dreamland or his mind refused to cooperate with his demand for sleep.

Sometimes, on more… sombre nights he would be plagued with bad memories and self-doubting thoughts. This was one of those nights.

“What is the matter, my love?” You say sleepily, rising into a sitting position. He had pulled himself from the covers and sat on the edge of the bed, head hung low. You wind your arms around his shoulder, kissing the nape of his neck. “Can’t sleep?”

He gives a small, empty laugh, shaking his head. “It’s just one of those days, beloved. You should go back to sleep.”

“And leave you alone?” You say incredulously. “I don’t think so. Nobody deserves to be alone at—” You risk a glance at the digital clock on the bedside table— “1AM on a Wednesday.”

“Awfully specific.”

You shrug. “You don’t deserve to be alone either way, Genji. We’ll meditate — or I can make some tea, if you’d like.”

The love that he feels for you feels like it’s been multiplied by thousands. Very few have truly cared for him like this.

“I think,” Genji begins, taking you fully into his arms, “That being with you will calm me just fine, beloved.”

And what do you know? He falls asleep easier than he ever has.