Overwatch Fantasies

Soldier 76 x Reaper: Yours, Always

Part Thirty-Nine: Soldier 76 x Reaper - Yours, Always.

Rating: MODERATE

Author's Note: I'm sorry if these stories have been awfully depressing lately but I guess I'm using this novel as an outlet for my own personal turmoil. Regarding content, this takes place in the present and is written from the first person perspective of Jack Morrison in the form of a letter.

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Dear Gabriel,

Do you remember the day we first met? When we joined Overwatch together? I'll never forget the way you held my hand, as you guided me to the entrance of the base camp. We entered together, step by step, promising that we would fight for the world, as well as each other. You were the only one who called me John, as you liked my birth name more than my sobriquet.

The organisation fell into your hands, and you were a great leader. We made a great team, as I was the glue who kept everyone together and you were the strength we needed to fight against the omnics. I loved you so much, especially after Vincent broke my heart. I needed you more than you knew, and you never failed to be there for me.

I felt your lips taste mine in an overwhelming moment of lust and confusion. We were in your car, driving back after defeating the omnics. It was finally over, and we were drunk on gin and brandy. You insisted I stopped driving, not wanting to risk our lives as well as others. You were always so distant and reserved, but you had a good heart. You cared more than you thought you knew.

We lay on the hood of your car that night, pointing at the stars, laughing together. We were always such great friends and I was regularly invited over to have dinner with your wife. You had married young, and you did love her. You always did.

I had always been open about my sexuality, and you never looked at me as if I were a predator, as many often did. I don't think we quite knew what we were doing that night, but when you kissed me under those stars, we were lost in each other. I fell into your mouth, appreciating the way you'd run your lips down my neck, leaving swollen marks upon my delicate skin, ensuring I was bruised by your love and affection. You needed me to know that in that moment you felt it, and that I was the only person you cared about.

I looked up at you, as I took your heated member in my mouth, savouring the fact that I was touching the most intimate part of you. I felt you push in me, hitting the back of my throat, as I struggled to keep you down. I normally wasn't the submissive type, but with you, I was addicted to your touch. I remember the way you tasted, as little droplets leaked from your tip, and all I wanted was more of you.

You lined me up on the hood of your car, the red dust blinding us if we weren't already, in love. I stammered when I asked you to spit, you were so nervous. I felt you at my entrance, hesitating before I heard you cry.

You couldn't do it to her, and I understood. I held you there, promising that it would be okay and that we would get through this. And in that moment, I was yours, always.

We barely spoke after that night, avoiding each other in the hallways, faking a smile every time we met to discuss the future of Overwatch and Blackwatch respectively. I grieved you and often dreamed of you, tossing and turning in the night, yearning for your presence.

One fateful evening, you knocked at my door in the middle of the night. I stirred in my sleep, grumbling as I was disturbed from my rest, staggering to the door in my boxers and singlet. You were there, your eyes were stained with tears, as you ran into my arms, sobbing, telling me how much you had missed me.