How about some OW dudes of your choice reacting to hearing their s/o wanting to become a mother (pretty plz?)
His world had come to a breathtaking stop, but his head was still spinning madly. He could scarcely believe the words that you were saying, and you were still talking? He couldn’t process, he was still latched onto the first sentence. “I always wanted to be a mother,” you’d said, offhand, and the air had been sucked from his lungs. Lucio had dreamed of such things, the idea of you loving him and wed to him and swollen with the proof of your commitment and love for him. He could already picture the glow of your skin.
Your hand on his face, cupping with your thumb stroking along his cheek, stirred him back to reality and to the inquisitive look on your face. Slightly guarded. Worried. “I’m not pregnant, I was just talking,” the words were a little rushed, and he realized you’d taken his silence for panic. He kissed you once, twice, three times, each time even more bubbly and infected with laughter. He would have to reassure you, do anything it took to let you know he didn’t mind your dreams, and he would make them a reality. No matter what it took.
Despite his large size and loud voice, Reinhardt had always presented himself as a gentle soul. Invested in the well being of others, enthusiastic to the point of gullibility! He knew how to knit, even, and prided himself on being good with small delicate things. Like you. He was very good with you, he thought.
Most times, at least.
You squeaked in his arms, the wind knocked out of you as he hugged you tight to his chest, the noise enough that he eased his hold just to grip your sides and hoist you high in the air. “Liebling! Forgive me, I’m just so excited!” His voice rose a few notches, and you couldn’t help but smile at the wide grin that stretched his scarred face. Reinhardt had always wanted to be a father, and hearing that you wanted to be a mother? He was spilling over with his joy.
He huffed, more to himself, the noise quiet but not missed by your attentive ears. “You want to be a mom?” He’d thought about being a parent, before the fall of Overwatch, before the world had eaten his sense of right and wrong and left him a bitter old man. You were still young, full of ideas and hope. He wondered as he stared away from you what you’d be like when you were as silver as he was, if that light would diminish.
He didn’t want children anymore, he didn’t exist anymore. Soldier 76 wasn’t the agent who was buried in the rubble of the Swiss headquarters. Arms on the table in front of him, he tried to avoid the hurt expression that was just in the corner of his vision. He wasn’t even sure he could have children, anymore. It seemed like hours before he reached for you, tucking you in against his side with a gruff mumble, “I guess it wouldn’t hurt to try.”
At the very least, you’d be less likely to leave the apartment if you miraculously got pregnant, and everything about you being tucked away from this rotten world and just his alone was incredibly soothing.