Headcanons for Junkrat x fem reader raising multiple children like up to 4 or 5?
You will never know peace. You’re stressed af 24/7.
Junkrat is a great dad but a terrible parent. The kids love him but they also know they can get away with nearly anything.
Once baby number 3 came home, Roadhog tried to quit. He was halfway out the door with you clinging to his leg begging him not to go. If anyone asks him why he stayed, he’ll tell them it was good money. It definitely wasn’t the way the kids hung around him and the newborns giggled in his arms.
Junkrat has a line of tape on the floor in his lab. The kids aren’t allowed to cross that line. The eldest has a scar from when they’d came too close and hurt themselves. He’s never forgiven himself for it.
The kids are all thick as thieves. They constantly cover for each other and work against the two of you to get their way. The house is a battlefield.
When they’re all tiny, you can expect to have three or four of them having nightmares at once. You’ll wake up with little feet in your face and no room, pillows, or blankets. God help you if they snore like their father.
Junkrat loves to take care of them as babies. You often come home to the littler ones in their highchairs giggling as he airplanes food into their mouths. When they cry at night, you don’t even have to open your eyes, Junkrat is already up and trying to soothe them.
The kids love you like crazy. You and Junkrat are their first idea of what love is and you’re doing a great job. They show compassion to each other and affection to you two. Most nights, you’re all curled up together on your giant couches watching tv or movies.
As they get older, they still spend a lot of time with you two. You all meet once a week and as the years go by more and more places at the table have to be made.
By the time your eldest is an adult, your house is full of more children than you can handle. Despite how much chaos they all cause Junkrat included even at an older age, you wouldn’t have it any other way. A silent house sounds like a nightmare to you. All those little feet and laughter keep you young.
Could you do the ask about their kid coming back after sneaking out again, but with 76, reaper, hanzo, mccree, and zenyatta. Thanks!
Soldier 76
Soldier 76′s house is probably the easiest to sneak out of. He usually gets up around the same times during the night to go to the bathroom so they just have to plan around his schedule. However, not getting caught is practically impossible.
He’ll notice they’re gone the minute he walks around the house. His old instincts tell him somethings off and he’s immediately checking on them.
He’s up waiting for them the entire night. The longer they’re gone, the longer their punishment is. If they’re gone for too long, he’ll start getting worried.
When they finally get home, they’ll find all the lights in the house on and know they’re screwed.
He doesn’t even have to say anything when they come inside. He’ll just give them The Neutral Face of Fatherly Disappointment™ and they’ll ground theirself.
Reaper
Sneaking out of the house is hard. Reaper doesn’t sleep as often as he used to. He also has ears like a damn bat so if they so much as make a noise, they’re donion rings. If they can get out of the house without him hearing, they deserve a medal.
They probably won’t have any fun the entire night because they’ll be too focused on knowing he knows that they’re not there. They’ll feel the chancla coming for them even when it’s not in sight.
When they get home, they just go up to the door and knock. He immediately opens the door and just crosses his arms.
“Grounded?” “Buried.”
What they don’t know is that in that split second that Reaper realized they weren’t there, 101 scenarios of what could be happening when through his head. He was a wreck and from the minute he noticed to the minute he saw them coming up the driveway, he was up waiting hoping his child came home safe.
Hanzo
The kid is the best equip to sneak out. They’ve spent their entire life training to be quiet so it all comes in handy when they want to leave the house. The next fifteen minutes are some Muay Thai Warrior park-our shit as they struggle to get out of the house undetected.
If they manage to get out, its while Hanzo’s asleep. His dragon will sense that the kid is gone the second they’re off the property. They know when the kid is doing something that could put them in harm’s way.
On the way back in, Hanzo will scare the life out of them because he’s sitting on their bed waiting for them to get back.
If they expect a scolding, they’d be wrong. He remembers very well his father’s scoldings to him and he wants to be a different parent than the ones he had.
He’d probably sit down and ask what they were thinking. He’s open to listen. This is the moment where the kid realizes just how much their father cares. They’re in trouble but they’re also loved. They’re definitely grounded though.
McCree
The apple doesn’t fall far from the tree when it comes to his kid. They’re just as rambunctious and rebellious as he was growing up.
McCree won’t hear them leave. The kid knows just when to go and his snoring could rival an earthquake. Getting out is a piece of cake.
But they trip the security alarm or the dogs bark or they fall in through the window on the way back in. McCree turning on the lights and finding his pride and joy face planting on the carpet, their foot caught in a window.
McCree’s not even angry. He’ll just ask “Why are you like this?”
He’s disappointed that they put themselves in danger like that and also that they didn’t even manage to sneak back in well. He would have done better. But that’s not the point. The point is, you’re grounded.
Zenyatta
Zenyatta and the kid have a really open line of communication so sneaking out doesn’t happen often. When they do sneak out, it’s always a shock to Zenyatta.
Zenyatta isn’t even upset when he comes into their room to say goodnight and they’re gone. He just sits down in the kitchen, sends them a message telling them he’d like to talk to them when they come back, and waits for them.
When the kid comes home, he sits them down at the table with him and has a discussion on why they felt the need to sneak out instead of talking to him about it.
He’s open to their feelings and listens while trying to keep an open mind. It’s hard not to feel hurt that they thought it was better to endanger themselves by not telling him but he’ll keep those emotions at bay. He’ll tell them that they’re in trouble but he understands why they did it eve if he doesn’t agree with their decision.
The conversation usually ends with a grounding but they both leave feelings better connected to each other after their opinions and feelings have been heard.
What would it be like that if Hanzo, Widowmaker, Sombra, Zarya and Reinhardt raised a child? Not all together, I mean.
~I’ve done just about every character now. Zarya is here. Reinhardt is here. Hanzo is here. Sombra is here.
Widowmaker
Their first word was “haut” which means “Up”. They’d wanted to be picked up while they were playing on the floor beside the couch. She picked them up and praised them for the word while they giggled and crushed their face into her chest.
The baby loves to be held. Widowmaker isn’t used to it but she liked how warm they are against her cold skin. She quickly gets used to cuddling and softens a lot because of them. She even starts wearing a baby papoose and playing with their little hands and feet. Don’t laugh at her for wearing it. There’s nothing more terrifying than a woman threatening to kill you with a baby attached to her chest.
God help her when they learn how to crawl. The baby is everywhere. In the cabinets, on top of the fridge. She has to keep her eye on them or she’ll find the front door open and them crawling or waddling their way down the driveway.
They teach her a lot about being happy again. Sometimes, she feels like she’s not even human. She feels like she’s too far gone to be saved but then her child comes up to her with soft eyes and a big grin and stares at her like she hung the moon. She realizes over and over again that they’re something good in her dark world.
She’s protective AF. As they get older, she’s more and more afraid for them. She has a lot of enemies and she knows exactly what they’re capable of. Sometimes it causes fights with the kid when they think she’s smothering them. She just wants her baby to stay safe.
The kid grows up like their mother-resourceful, hard working, and terrifying. Standing side by side, it’s clear they’re related. However, there’s a softness to the kid that Widowmaker was never able to master. She doesn’t know where it came from but she’s thankful for it every day.
As Widowmaker gets older, the roles reverse and she finds herself being cared for and held just like she used to hold them. They visit her often and she often tunes out their nagging at her to be more careful in her growing age. But she’s happy she raised a child that wasn’t like her but better.
Hello! I see requests are temporarily open! Your writing is so good! May I have an imagine will junkrat having a son and growing up to be rebellious and everything and not listening to him nor his s/o (can u also put in the detail that his son looks like his s/o more?) thank you so much !💛
~I didn’t know if you meant Imagine as in head canon or drabble so I just started writing and here we are 1k+ words later. Hope you enjoy it!!
The doorbell rang and Junkrat sighed. Roadhog wasn’t supposed to be back in town for a few days so it could be anyone. A small part of his brain leaped to the idea of the police finally catching up to him for his past crimes but he pushed the thought down. Those days were behind him. They had been for years.
“I’ll get it, love,” he called to you when he heard the sink water turn off. Opening the door, Junkrat froze. “Junior?”
Junkrat hadn’t seen your son in years. Looking at his face, the years suddenly felt longer. He still looked like you, always had, but those features were more worn now with age. If Junkrat hadn’t felt pain in his joint and age settling into his bones before he opened the door, he felt it now.
“Hey pops,” Junior said.
Junior’s smile was painful. He’d probably been hoping you’d answer the door. Hell, Junkrat wished he’d let you. Looking at Junior now, he was overcome with memories he had tried not to think about in years. The first time he held Junior. His first steps. Every time you’d asked Junior as a toddler what he wanted to be when he grew up and he’d pointed at Junkrat. The memories stuck in his throat and Junkrat struggled to breathe.
“Who’s at the door?” you called, your voice coming down the hall from the kitchen. You stopped in your tracks when you saw your son. “Jamison?” you exhaled the word like someone had punched you in the gut. You pushed past Junkrat and cupped Junior’s face. “I can’t believe it.” The words were filled with so much hope, Junkrat had to take a second to stamp down his anger. A parent shouldn’t be that happy to see their kid. It only showed how many years had divided you two.
Junkrat watched from the side lines. He wasn’t ready for a tearful reunion. The fear he’d felt for Junior’s whereabouts turned to anger in seconds. All this time, he’d wondered if his little boy was alive or dead in a ditch somewhere. Now seeing him, breathing and healthy, he couldn’t help the rage inside. The only thing that stopped him from slamming the door here and now was you still on the other side.
“Hey mum,” Junior said pulling you closer. He looked over your shoulder at Junkrat.
Junkrat looked away, a scowl on his face. He couldn’t help himself. Ten years and no phone call. No letter. Nothing. Growing up, Junior hadn’t been easy. Junkrat blamed himself. The only thing he and Junior shared in common was a name and even that felt like a curse. Give the boy the name and the boy becomes the name. The last thing Junkrat wanted was for Junior to become him.
As the years passed, Junkrat realized that he’d been right in many ways but Junior didn’t become him, he became worse than him. Junkrat never had parents to insult but Junior did and he didn’t hold back. Every conversation dissolved into a shouting match and slamming doors. There was an animosity in him that Junkrat always seemed to poke at, even when he wasn’t trying.
The last time he’d seen him, Junior punched him square in the jaw and drove off to college. Junkrat rubbed his jaw just thinking about it. Junior had a hell of a left hook. He was his father’s son after all.
Now here he was, like nothing had happened.
“Can I come in or are you going to slam the door in my face?” Junior asked.
Junkrat looked at you and then at Junior. You two had the same eyes and it hurt to say no. “I haven’t decided yet,” Junkrat said. He couldn’t help himself. All he could think about was you waiting by the phone so often it became a habit you still had today. Waiting for your son to call. A lot of the nights when Junior was growing up, Junkrat wished he’d had your patience.
Junior deflated. “Please, pops,”
Junkrat reached over to you pulling you back and behind him. “Whadda ya want, Jamison?” he asked.
Junior looked at him. “I just want to talk,”
“Junkrat, stop,” You said.
“Do ya want money?” Junkrat said.
“No,” Junior answered.
“Are ya in trouble with the law?”
“No, can’t we just-”
“-Are ya homeless?”
“Dammit, dad. No!” Junior snapped. He stopped, taking a deep breath. Junkrat eyed the clenched fist at his sides. “I just wanted to talk.”
Junkrat looked over to you.
Your eyes were pleading. “Let him in,”
Junkrat knew he was beat. He opened the door completely and let Junior in.
Junior looked around the room. “The house looks different.” he said. Junkrat had taken down a lot of the baby pictures. They hurt to look at.
“It wouldn’t be a surprise if ya visited.” Junkrat said closing the door with a little more force than necessary.
“Junkie, please,” you said gripping his arm. “He’s finally home.”
The look on your face broke his heart. He kissed your forehead and shook out of your hold. “I’ll be in my workshop.” He didn’t spare Junior a glance as he walked away.
Tinkering always helped him think. You were willing to talk to him but the bitterness in Junkrat’s chest refused to leave. He remembered just how hard it was with Junior growing up. He’d been rebellious from minute one and it did nothing to help the temper he had. Junkrat had always taken the brunt of the anger to keep you from crying.
He tinkered for what felt like hours. A part of him knew he was hiding away but a larger part of him didn’t care. He was waiting for the sound of the front door closing again.
“The house looks different but this place looks the same.”
Junkrat froze. He looked over to the door to his workshop. Junior stood in it. He walked into the room a bit before pausing behind a yellow tape line. He didn’t seem to notice the line but Junkrat did.
Junkrat had put the line there when Junior was three after he’d walked too far into the room and hurt himself. He still had the scar on his hand from touching a sharp piece of metal. Junkrat had never forgiven himself for causing that to happen. Watching Junior pause unconsciously behind the line reminded him of the boy in diapers he’d once had. The one that looked at him with happy eyes and pudgy fingers.
“What did ya talk about with your mother?” Junkrat said turning back to his tools.
“My wife is having a baby,” Junior said.
Junkrat swallowed down the hurt in his chest. “I didn’t know ya were married.”
The silence that followed afterward was hard to handle. Junior broke it first. “I wanted you to meet your granddaughter.”
“How’s your mother feel about it?”
“She’s happy,” Junior said. “Dad, will you please look at me?”
Junkrat took a deep breath. He turned to Junior and stared at him. His eyes widened as he saw the soft tears streaming down Junior’s face. Junkrat was out of his chair in second and holding him. “Don’t cry,”
“I’m sorry,” Junior said into Junkrat’s shirt. “I’m so sorry,”
“Don’t cry,” Junkrat held him. “Everythin’s okay. Don’t cry.” He held him through the tears.
From the hall, you peaked your head into the room and looked at the two of them. Junkrat motioned for you to come over and you shook your head before disappearing again. He was on his own.
When the tears finally stopped, Junkrat tried to let Junior go but he refused. “I know you tried your best,” he said. “Mom and I were talking. I remember how angry I was growing up and it wasn’t fair to you. I wouldn’t listen to anything you said. I was always fighting you.”
“Teenage years are hard,” Junkrat found himself saying. “It’s a confusin’ time and I tried to take everythin’ ya said with a grain of salt.”
“I was a horrible kid,”
“Yep,” Junkrat said. “But your my kid so I love ya.” The words untied the tight knot in Junkrat’s chest and he took a deep breath. He looked around the room. Here he was holding his adult son like a toddler. In that short moment, it felt like Junior was a baby again. Small and vulnerable, needing his father. Junkrat kept his anger at bay and did what he’d tried to do for so long. He just held his son.
They were quiet again. Junkrat couldn’t remember the last time he’d held Junior like that. He squeezed him harder just thinking about it.
“I started taking anger management five years ago.”
Junkrat hummed a reply running his hand through Junior’s hair. “Seems ta be workin’. We haven’t started shoutin’ at each other yet.”
“You should be shouting at me,” Junior said. “I punched you and left for ten years.”
“And I’m downright pissed about it still but it’d break ya mum’s heart if I didn’t try to get over it,” he lifted Junior’s face and looked at him. “You’re still my son and even when we fight, I’ve always loved you and always will, got that?”
Junior’s eyes filled with new tears. He smiled, the tears streaming down his face. “Got it,”
Junkrat held him again and smiled. He looked toward the door. “Alright, we’re hugging. Get in here.”
You looked inside with a grin on your face. You threw your arms over the two of them and squeezed tight.
“Oi!” they both yelled and you laughed until you cried.
