How about Widow/Zarya/Tracer finding out their S/O was in the medbay recovering after they come back from a mission? (hope this is good practice for ya, writing different characters is good for the soul. Also writer's high five ✋!)
Sorry about the delay and the poor writing.
“Target down. Mission success,” Widowmaker spoke into her earpiece as she jumped from her perch. There’d be another notch on her rifle had she bothered with that silly tradition. She wasn’t made to focus on those she killed, just who was next. As soon as she boarded the jet she knew that there was something wrong. She was used to the nervous looks from fellow operatives. But there was a new tension in the air this time. All refused to look at her, to even whisper among themselves as they usually did.
“Is there something someone would like to report?” she demanded, finger tapping against her rifle. The silence still hung until one brave operative could stand the tension- and the threat- no longer.
“It’s (Y/N), t-they were injured. They’re alive! They’re in med-bay,” he confessed, squeezing his eyes shut and waiting for her wrath. They all knew that when it came to you, she was deadly and uncontrollable.
“Why wasn’t I informed earlier?!” she yelled, marching to the cockpit, “Get us back to base. Now!”
The flight was quick, but not quick enough for her liking. The wheels were barely on the ground and she was off the jet and sprinting towards med-bay, pushing past agents and doctors alike. They didn’t put up much of a fight against the Widowmaker.
As soon as she was in your room she dropped to her knees at your bedside. She grabbed your hand and pressed it to her cold lips.
“I am sorry, mon cher. I tried to get here sooner. I didn’t know, I-“
“Amelie,” you croaked, running a hand through her hair with your free hand, “It’s fine. I’m fine. You’re here, that’s all that matters.”
“Who did this to you?” she growled, grip on your hand tightening, “I will hunt them down.”
You let out a small laugh before wincing in pain.
“No need,” you hissed, clutching your wound, “Already beat you too it.”
Amelie leant up and pressed a kiss to your temple.
“That’s my Cherie.”
Zarya stormed through the corridors, parting crowds with a single furious glance. Her fists were clenched by her side and she could feel her pulse pounding. During her time fighting Omnics she had never felt fear like this. In her panic she nearly ripped the door to your room from its hinges. Her breath hitched when she saw you. Bruised and bleeding, but alive. She rushed over to hug you but stopped only inches away. Normally she would scoop you into a bear hug, but seeing you look so fragile… She thought she may break you.
“(Y/N)…” she whispered, voice cracking as tears pricked the corner of her eyes, “You…I…I was so worried. Are you…”
“Zarya I’m fine,” you assured her, flashing a small smile, “Better now that you’re here!”
You reached out and took her hand, giving it a gentle squeeze. She took a deep breath, only now she realised how tight her chest had been since she heard the news. She leant down to press a gentle kiss to a bruise near your temple. The tender moment passed all too quick. Zarya promptly straightened and cleared her throat before scolding you for your recklessness and disregard for your own safety. You let her rant. She needed to vent after the scare she received. After dealing with her lecture for a few minutes you just couldn’t stand it anymore. You grabbed her shirt and yanked her down, slamming your lips against hers to finally shut her up. Getting lost in the moment, her arms slid around you, brushing off one of your current tender spots. You pulled away, hissing in pain. Zarya immediately flinched and stepped back, her eyes wide.
“Darling I am so sorry!” she babbled.
“I’m fine I’m fine I’m fine!” you quickly assured her, “But how about you save all those hugs and I’ll make them up to you when I’m better?”
“Ha! I will hold you to that,” she promised, beaming at you.
“Sorry! Sorry, love. Watch it! Oof- ‘Scuse me,” Tracer called, crashing and she blinked her way to the med bay. She skidded to a halt outside the door. Her watch beeped, reminding her of all the energy she had drained from her chronal accelerator in her rush to get to you. She ignored it, she had more important things to worry about. Lena wanted to burst through the doors but heeded the doctors orders. That didn’t stop her lingering outside the door as they treated you, face pressed to the window trying to see through the opaque glass. When the door was finally opened she stumbled through, almost falling to the floor. She quickly straightened and was at your side in a heartbeat. She reached out to touch you but pulled away, afraid she’d hurt you more.
“A-are you okay, love?” she asked, chocolate eyes scanning you up and down. You weren’t looking the best but you could have been a whole lot worse. She chewed her lip, anxiety practically radiating off her.
“Lena,” you called, forcing her attention to shift and for her to lock eyes with you, “I’m alright, darling. Just…please slow down before you end up hurting yourself!”
Tracer went bright red as you giggled at her. She gave a sheepish smile as relief washed over her. You patted the bed beside you and Lena wasted no time in hopping into the spot. You rested your weary head against her shoulder. She responded by resting her head against yours.
“You know (Y/N)…You ought to be more careful,” she told you. You couldn’t help but bark out a laugh.
“Oh that’s rich coming from you, Lena Oxton!”