Momma

With this one, I thought about my own relationship with my husband and how he’s different when it’s just the two of us. Others might call his behaviour ‘out of character.’ I drew inspiration from that idea for this.


Your battle-worn and lovable boy, Jesse McCree, stepped in the front door. He moved like the weight of the past few days had taken up residence in his boots. He had discarded his cigarillo long before, just like you required. No smoking in the house. Your smile drooped into a frown when you saw the state of him.

“You’re filthy! Have you been rolling in the dirt?!”

“I roll, Momma, that’s what I do,” he replied, referring to his combat roll.

“Well…take these off,” you said, gesturing to his clothes. “Baby needs a bath.”

Jesse loved the idea, but he had to make a grumpy fuss first like the tired child he was.

“But Momma!” he complained.

“But nothing! Strip,” you ordered, pointing at the floor where you expected his clothes to end up.

You watched him unstrap and wiggle leisurely out of his gear, with dull thuds and the jingle of his belt. The movement of removing the clothes made them rain a layer of dirt and dust onto the floor. But the foyer was tiled. Nothing a quick sweep wouldn’t fix.

“Undies, too!”

He scoffed. “Fine.”

He slipped off his boxers to reveal a half-hard length. He was just happy to see you. All that was left was his hat.

“Naughty,” you chided.

He smiled, most of it in his eyes. Then he flung his arms wide.

“C’mere, Momma!” he said, taking you in a hug. “I want my hug!”

You stiffened as he gathered you to his dirty self. Your naughty boy nuzzled his dirt-caked beard into your neck, humming like this was better than a couple of fingers of whiskey after his long day. When he stepped back, he realized his mistake.

“Sorry, Momma.” He took his hat off. “But, ya know, this just means you’ll have to join me.”

He winked.

“Well, I guess I have to,” you complained dramatically.

He laughed while you joined him down to your birthday suit.

“You gonna carry me to the bath, Momma?” he asked with a mischievous glint in his eye.

Your hand flew out to pinch his exposed nipple.

“Ow!” he exclaimed, his feet dancing up and down from the pain. “Fine.”

Your boy Jesse had the figure of what you’d call a starved bear. Nice and fuzzy and cuddly-looking, with the soft curves of his muscles. But minus all the bulk of a real bear.

“I’ll clean your hat for you later.” You held your hand out.

He gave you the hat. You hung it up near the door where it belonged. Rubbing at his chest hair produced more dirt that fell to the floor. You scoffed, he shrugged, and you led him to the bathroom.

You drew your dirty boy a bath. A little on the scalding side, just like he preferred.

“Isn’t that a nice view.”

You straightened up from leaning over the bath.

Get in.

Just stepping in made Jesse groan in relief. He sank down into the water, eyes rolling up, and lips parting. Then he lay back. You sat on the toilet.

“Momma?”

“Mm?”

“A man doesn’t need bubbles. But he does need his duck.”

“Alright, Baby.”

You placed the yellow rubber duckie with the tiny cowboy hat in the water. He flicked at it, making it bob and sway.

“What about Tio Pato?”

“Alright, you twisted my arm. Give ‘im here.”

You pulled another duck from the shelf and placed it next to the cowboy duck. This duck had a tiny sombrero and mustache on his bill.

If only the other members of Overwatch could see him now. But he was happy, and that’s all that mattered. You soaped him up real nice while he told you about his day.

“I liberated a nice omnic dame from a box. She’s needed in the fight against Talon.”

You lathered circles across his chest.

“Run into any trouble?”

“Just an old acquaintance I mentioned before. Ashe.” He lifted his arms to let you scrub his pits. “She’s predictable. I handled her.”

“Not literally, I hope.”

He gasped. “I would never, Momma.”

You laughed. “I know.”

Jesse finished his story, and you told him briefly about your day. Dull in comparison to his.

“You should be grateful for that,” he always said.

“I am. Because I have you,” you said, punctuating your sentence with a peck to his temple.

He blushed. “Aww, Momma.”

You handed him a towel as he rose from the bath nice and clean. He towelled off sloppily, more interested in your nakedness. He sat on the towel on the edge of the tub.

“What?” you asked, as he gazed at you.

“I need somethin’ for my oral fixation,” he purred.

You let him draw you closer with his arms around your waist. His warm lips closed around your nipple. You sighed, loving where this was going.

The Misunderstanding

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You rolled your eyes, got off the recliner, and left the living room. Hanzo was watching his Japanese TV shows again. Another stupid game show with unnecessarily goofy activities for the contestants. You got tired of how he kept uttering, “Fools,” at the screen but never changing the channel. Despite disliking the show, he was engrossed. It reminded him of home, so you let it be.

Your phone announcing a message broke him out of his daze. He bent over to reach for it and call you over to come get it. The screen lit up with a message, and he accidentally read it.

“It came back positive,” it said. From Angela, the doctor. She was the best, and Hanzo insisted you see her only. The message must be concerning a test, but you never mentioned going in for a test during your last checkup.

You walked back into the room, laughing off your forgetfulness, and picking up your phone. You gave him a kiss on the cheek and then left. Hanzo’s solemn gaze followed you out of the room.

He wasn’t sure how to deal with this. The rest of his shows passed in a blur while he considered what test could have been positive. He was convinced it was bad or else you would have told him immediately. You didn’t. Hanzo held you tighter that night while you slept. He kissed the back of your neck every so often, having trouble drifting off himself.

The next week was slow, agonizing torture for him. You didn’t broach the subject, you just complained that you were so tired. When you weren’t looking, he googled ‘fatigue’ as a symptom to try to determine what disease it belonged to. Hanzo retreated into his own head, trying to figure this out instead of just asking you what was wrong. Anything that interrupted his search, irritated him. He didn’t realize you would notice the change.

Hanzo was holding you tightly from behind when you asked him if anything was up.

“I have to ask one thing first,” he replied. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Tell you what?”

His question had you thinking. You do omit a few unimportant facts here and there when it might lead to an argument. Hanzo had more than a few sore topics. But you didn’t omit anything lately as far as you know.

“That you’re sick,” he said in a dead-serious tone.

“I’m not sick! What makes you think that?”

You wiggled to loosen his hold and then rolled over to face him. You saw Hanzo’s features outlined in pale-blue moonlight filtered dimly through the blinds.

He sighed. “I may have seen a message from Dr. Ziegler by accident. It said a test was positive.”

“Well, I know you didn’t look on purpose,” you told him, assuaging the guilt you knew he was feeling. “But!” You poked his cheek with a finger and smiled. “The test was not for something bad. It was a pregnancy test.”

Shock spread across his face. The truth was, you could have told Hanzo sooner, but you were nervous about his reaction. It might be another sore spot you didn’t know about. Instead of panicking, he relaxed against his pillow as the shock faded into a relieved smile.

“That is the best news that I could ever hear.”

Hanzo looked like he might cry as you shared a quick kiss and entangled yourselves back into a tight hold. You got a resurgence of energy to discuss potential baby names, how you were going to make the apartment ready, and what the baby might look like.

The Cookie

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Overwatch was short on recruits capable enough of going out in the field, so you couldn’t turn down the packed schedule that you currently had. You just came back from your sixth mission of the week. Besides sleep, and texting your boyfriend, Genji, that you were back, there was one thing you were looking most forward to. A giant, chocolate chip cookie. With the biggest chunks of chocolate you’d ever seen. This brand of cookie was still going to be soft by the time you got to it. Just thinking about that round slice of heaven got you through this last mission. You headed to your locker where it was safely hidden.

No, no, no! It wasn’t where you left it. You frantically pawed through your extra set of clothing and gear. Nope. It was gone. You took half a step back to stare in disbelief at your locker.

A pair of hands grabbed your waist, making you yelp in surprise.

“Babe!”

Normally, Genji’s voice welcoming you home to the watchpoint warmed your heart. Not this time. You jumped like his hands shocked you. You whipped around.

“I told you not to sneak up on me like that!”

The way Genji smiled told you that you weren’t getting through to him. He playfulness was innate.

“Aren’t you happy to see me?” he asked playfully.

That made you feel bad.

“I am. I just was looking for that cookie I told you about. I can’t find it.”

Genji’s silence was suspicious. You narrowed your eyes at him. His smile faltered, and that confirmed everything.

“Well, see. I thought you were going to be back tomorrow. I was going to replace it then.”

Tomorrow?!

You took a breath to yell, but it came out as a sob. It was too much. You were betrayed by your love.

It opened the floodgates. You continued to cry, letting out all the missed hours of sleep, the days you went without a single shower, and the times an innocent bystander died despite your best efforts. A hug from your boyfriend would have gone a long way to help on those days.

You were having a meltdown over a cookie. Genji suspected it was more than that. So even though you looked like a crazy woman, he loved you. He was naturally drawn closer to comfort you. If Genji could survive his own death, he could survive your meltdown.

He took both your hands and brought them up to give them each a kiss. He apologized. You continued to sob, but for a different reason. Genji was being just as sweet as you needed. You pulled on his hands and made him put his arms around your body, arms and all. You leaned your full body into him. His cybernetic parts used to bother you. Now you loved it because it was him.

“I did not know it meant that much to you,” he said, kissing the top of your head. “I will get you two cookies.”

You looked up at him to say something, and you shared a quick kiss.

“And some cuddles?” you asked weakly, pouting.

“Two cookies and a massage.”

“You’re the best,” you said, leaning back against him. You remained this way, letting his embrace warm your heart. Then you sighed. “You don’t have time for it right now, do you?”

“Yes,” he sighed. He paused and then said, “You know what I love about you? You keep trying, even when it’s hard. We are alike in that way.”

Genji walked with you back to your bed and left on his own mission.