Overwatch x Reader Compilation

Soldier 76 x Reader: Stress Relief (2)

Request: "I currently have 16 days left of school and I'm very stressed out to the point, where I'm vomiting. Anyways, could you possibly write a very fluffy scenario with either 76 or Jesse and them trying to calm and relax their s/o?? Thank you so much sugar!! 🌸" 

Soldier 76 knew when you were stressed probably before you even did, so he always made it his mission to help you relax. He helped you with your work, took you out on little dates, brought you snacks and drinks when needed, did your half of the chores for you, and made sure you got enough rest. Unfortunately, sometimes even these didn't work. This was proven especially when he found you whimpering with your head in your hand at your desk or laying in your shared bed screaming into a pillow.

Hell, Jack definitely understood the struggles of copious amounts of stress. This also caused him to understand the risks of letting it control you as much as you allowed it to. So, he took special precautions and decided to bring out the big guns.

Which ultimately caused you end up in the passenger seat of his truck, blindfolded while the white-haired man drove for hours on bumpy-ass roads.

"You know," you started after a while of silence, "this feels a lot less relaxing and a lot more like kidnapping."

You could hear the older man snort in response before replying, "We're almost there, I promise."

"And what is the there you're taking to me exactly?" You shifted in your seat from having your head leaning against the window to your back leaning against it with your legs stretched out enough to rest on your partner's lap. Crossing your arms over your chest, you continued, "I do have work to finish and I'm sure you do too. By the way, if this ends up being a slaughterhouse situation, shame on you."

"I'm not kidnapping you, for Christ's sake," Jack huffed. The truck turned before you felt it finally come to a slow, then a stop. "You need one hell of a break and so do I, so I brought you somewhere that I think will do us both a little good." He cut the engine, then gently slid your feet off his lap before exiting the truck.

You moved to open your own door, only to have it opened for you. Then Jack grasped your hand and carefully helped you out of the truck, where you were greeting with a warm breeze and the smell of grass and flowers with only faint fragrances.

After a moment of quiet, you couldn't help but ask, "Did you actually take me to a slaughterhouse?"

Your boyfriend grumbled briefly before removing the small towel hiding your vision, revealing to you a decently sized ranch house surrounded by rolling grassy hills.

You looked around curiously before finally settling your sights on Jack, who was now moving to the bed of his truck to get the bags he brought along.

"A ranch house?"

"It was a family inheritance," Jack explained as he lowered the two suitcases onto the dusty dirt path. "I kept it for relaxation and reminiscence's sake. Thought it might be nice for us to get away from crazy work lives and do something simple and calm for a change." He retracted the bags' extendable handles and began walking up to the house, bags in tow.

"Is it clean?" you asked, purely out of your growing curiosity. "I mean, how long has it been since you've last been here?"

"I have someone come by every so often to make sure things are tidy."

Some time later, after a house tour and unpacking the clothes that Jack had brought along for the both of you, the two of you settled down in the rustic living room. Your Soldier had started a fire in the fireplace, warning that the house got a little chilly at night, while you'd set up the couch with blankets and pillows at his request.

You both sat on opposite ends of the couch now, each of you wrapped in a fuzzy blanket and holding a hand of cards with the rest of the stack and a bowl of pretzels sitting between you.

"Do you have any sixes?" Jack questioned, foggy blue eyes glancing at you almost accusingly.

Returning his gaze with a scowl of mock grumpiness, you pulled a six of clubs from your hand and flicked it at him before grabbing a pretzel and tossing it in your mouth. "Got any threes?"

"Go fish."

"Goddammit, why are you good at this stupid game!"

Jack chuckled as you drew a card, then caught your hand. Before you could question him, he tugged you closer and met you the rest of way to press kiss to your lips.

"I really hope you're enjoying this as much as I am," he hummed, placing his hand of cards face-down on the couch to brush his fingers through your hair. "I hope you're not just pretending to make me feel happy."

You sighed contently and closed your eyes, soaking up the warmth of the fire as well as the touch of your sweetheart.

"Morrison," you addressed him after a moment, opening your eyes, "this has been fantastic. I haven't worried about anything other than how you make grilled cheese sandwiches taste so good and how to beat you at this god forsaken game since we've stepped foot in this house." You leaned forward again to kiss his cheek–

–and attempted to sneak a peek at his hand before he caught your hand in the act.

"Got any eights?" he asked, smirking with a childish arrogance.

"I hate you," you replied while handing him your cards.