A/n: HAI OMG- its been...a while...if anyone read it, I posted the WIP of this like all the way back in November last year. other notes are that there is no use of Y/N, and it is kept gender neutral, but it is implied to be WLW. but since it is no longer in my hands, take it as you will keke hope u enjoy!!!
Upon waking up, you already felt that it was going to be a long day, one that was longer than usual. The sores from numerous fights and hours of walking were ever present from the moment you opened your eyes; the feeling of the Astarion’s fangs wringing your neck numb. You mentally check off the numerous problems before you get out of your tent and set off for the day. Upon leaving the dimly lit tent, you were blinded slightly by the morning light. The smell of breakfast filled the air as idle chatter continued. You take a moment to look at your companions. Gale was the one cooking, making idle chatter with Wyll and Karlach, the latter who was most likely the one who started the fire. Lae’zel was by herself, sharpening one of her many swords. Astarion emerges from his tent, also having just woken up. You continue to scan the camp looking for someone in particular.
‘No sign of her…’ You think to yourself, pouting slightly. From the corner of your eyes, you see Astarion approaching you. Sighing, you reiterate the fact that although the day had just started, you could tell it was going to be a long day.
“Glad to see you didn’t die last night.” He greets you with a smirk. You look at him, already feeling the regret of letting him feed and an oncoming headache. You pinch the bridge of your nose, hoping it will relieve some tension.
“Well if someone didn’t take any more than he should have, I wouldn’t have passed out.” You quip, to which Astarion lets out a laugh.
“I did not take any more than I normally do. You just lost a lot of blood yesterday.” He says as he crosses his arms and shifts to the side. You look at him blankly for a moment, thinking if it would be worth it to put a stake in his heart. Listing the pros and cons, it seems that keeping him alive has more pros, shockingly. Sighing once more, which was something that happened a lot when Astarion was around, you cast lesser restoration on yourself and begin to walk towards Gale, Karlach, and Wyll. However, before you can even approach the trio, you see Shadowheart emerge from her tent.
Your heart skips a beat as you look at her from afar. From the moment you had seen her while on the nautiloid, you had some sort of feelings stirring for her. Just a glance at her tells you how much of a beauty she is. The way her onyx hair framed her face, her braid that swished and would often rest on her shoulders, and the soft makeup that furthered her beauty in a way that felt almost godlike. Not to mention her eyes. The soft hazel green stood out with her darker eyeshadow, luring in the very person who looked into them. In your mind, she could rival the beauty of the gods and goddesses. However, it wasn’t just her physical beauty that lured you in, it was the subtle beauty that seemingly showed when she wasn’t paying attention. The soft smile that creeps up her face when you were swarmed by children at the grove, or how she plays with Scratch when she thinks no one is paying attention. You would often find yourself looking forward to fights, just to get injured so she could heal you, watching how her hands would tenderly cover the wound. In essence, her mannerisms, voice, and beauty have bewitched you, terribly. Often you were left lying awake late at night, thinking back on any conversation or memories you have of her.
Since the tiefling party a few nights ago, you have had numerous things to think of. Truthfully, you were elated that you had agreed to a drink with her, since in your mind it showed that she had a fraction of attraction towards you. While it was hard to tell how she truly felt since she was sharran and they were sworn to secrecy; you did not need words to know that she enjoyed the moment you two shared. The kiss you two shared, the talking and looking into one another's eyes until either the sun came up or sleep overtook you both. The morning after you two had talked about it, she agreed that there was something between the two of you. However, soon after she began to withdraw herself from you, she would avoid being alone with you, cut the conversation short, and even volunteer to stay behind at camp. It hurt to see her detach herself from any social interaction with you. You even knew that she was avoiding only you, catching glimpses of her talking to the others, chattering with Lae’zel even though they both differed. Rather than getting upset and confronting her, you kept it to yourself. Finding that it was better to give her space, something that she appreciated in the past, though it was turning out to be harder than you wanted it to be.
“You know, it is rude to stare.” A voice cuts you out of your train of thought. Blinking, you look at the voice and see that it is Astarion. Confused as to what he is talking about, you give him a look. He rolls his eyes and smacks his teeth. “You have been staring at Shadowheart’s tent for a good while, my friend. A bit too long, might I add.”
Quietly, you let out an ‘oh’ before you turn towards your tent. You decide to start getting ready for the day, no longer hungry. Stripping your camp wear and donning your armor, you mentally summon all your courage so you can ask Shadowheart to accompany you, Gale, and Karlach. Finishing the knot of your boots, you equip your weapons and leave your tent, the blinding rays of the sun stinging your eyes for a brief moment.
‘Moonmadein please guide me.’ You utter in your thoughts before you make your way to Gale and Karlach. Even though you were nowhere near them, Karalach seemed to notice you were heading their way. Turning her head from her conversation with Gale, she makes eye contact with you. Her face seemingly lights up as small flames rise out of her skin.
“Mornin’ soldier!” She hollers. Gale says something to her in a quiet tone, one that you can’t hear. Whatever he told her caused the flames on her to diminish. Looking back at you, she gives a slightly nervous chuckle and says, “Sorry about that. Just excited to get on the road again.”
“No worries, and good morning to you Karlach. You too Gale.” You reassure Karlach quickly before you greet the wizard. Gale smiles in return and greets a quick ‘morning’ before leaving, presumably to get his stuff for the road. You look back to Karlach and ask, “Have you seen Shadowheart?”
“Oh, I think I saw she went with Scratch into the woods,” Karlach says, her mood seemingly more down. She hesitates for a moment, before asking “Why?”
“I just want to see if she wants to join us on the road. It has been a bit since she left camp.” You explain, hoping you weren't evident in your real reason for talking to her. While it wasn’t a complete lie, it wasn't the whole truth. The half-truth was that you did want her to accompany you and walk around for a while; you did want to know if she wanted to leave camp for a while. You also just wanted a moment alone with her; for when there was a moment where everyone was walking, no direction in mind. It seemed that Karlach bought what you said, as she began to perk up a bit after your answer. However before anything else could be said, the bushes rustled slightly. You and Karlach turn to the noise, however, you don’t need to go and investigate since Scratch jumps from the bushes and runs toward you. He jumps onto your chest, tackling you to the ground before he starts to lick at your face. Laughing at the slightly ticklish feeling, you try to move him off of you, not too keen on smelling like dog breath or even having slobber on you so early in the day. Thankfully he gets off with ease and goes to bother someone else. Still chuckling, you get up from the ground, with the help of Karlach who is laughing with you. The rustling of leaves happens once more, catching your attention once more. This time it was Shadowheart who emerged from the woods. You briefly make eye contact with her, your heart skips a beat, and you move towards her. Though it seemed she noticed you moving, since she looked away first and headed back to her tent, not even uttering a greeting or looking back. Your shoulders sag, clearly dejected at her avoidance.
‘I can’t be like this all day. We have to move forward.’ You think to yourself, quickly shaking the feeling and standing up straighter, putting on the front that you were not bothered by it.
“It seems like she has no intent on leaving today. I suppose we could drag Astarion with us.” You jest lightly to Karlach. Wanting to leave sooner, you readjust your pack and look for Astarion. Thankfully, he seemed to have read your mind and was already in his gear. You look for Gale briefly and see that he is equally as ready. With a nod, the four of you leave camp and begin the day.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
“Ugh, I feel I can sleep for days,” Karlach groans as she stretches her back. Letting out another exhausted sigh, she falls back. You nod in agreement, the weariness in your bones causing them to ache slightly more than they already were. While trying to stretch your back, you find it more difficult than normal, as you are in your armor. It was a long day, numerous battles and hours of walking. If there were only a handful of fights, you could handle that, however, it felt like it was battle after battle. The mere thought of the battles caused the bruises on your body to feel more prominent. Plopping down on a nearby tree trunk, you let your body relax as much as it can while sitting up. You look to Gale was already cooking, somehow already in his evening wear. The smell of the food made its way into your stomach, causing it to rumble. Looking around, you notice you can’t find Astarion. Assuming that he is relaxing in his tent, you sigh and lean back, still trying to find relief.
However, you begin to become restless. Somehow through the aches and pain, you feel the need for fresh air, which is odd for being outside. Not being able to sit and just wait, you get up and begin to head to your tent. Before you head inside, you turn to Karlach and Gale.
“You two can stay at camp tomorrow. Take the day to rest. I could bring Wyll and Lae’zel instead.” I say to Karlach and Gale. Gale doesn’t comment, rather focused on the meal he was making than what I was saying. I hear a faint groan, which you assume is Astarion. You begin to feel slightly bad, that he can’t get a day of rest, however with the avoidance from Shadowheart, there is bound to be one person who has to travel a little more.
‘Hopefully, she will get over whatever hindrance she is dealing with…hope I didn’t do anything wrong.’ You think before shaking the thought. ‘I shouldn’t think about it too much.’
You rid your thoughts altogether, of what happened, what is, and what was to come; choosing not to think on it too much, you begin to take off your armor. It took you longer than normal, the aches in your body causing you to slow down. Eventually, you were in your evening wear; sitting on the floor, staring at your feet blankly. You didn’t notice how much the day had affected you, to the point you just wanted to seek the warmth of another person and just fall into the deepest sleep you could. However, the person’s warmth you wanted seemingly wanted nothing to do with you. You let out another deep sigh, kick off your boots, and turn to your bed, not wanting to eat.
It seemed that no one noticed that you decided to turn in early for the night, or if they did no one came into your tent. You felt a tad grateful that no one came, feeling that no one's company would be enough. You lie in your tent, trying to sleep. However, no matter how much you slowed your breathing and kept your eyes closed, your body could not find itself to relax. With a sigh, you decide to give up on sleeping and leave your tent. Hastily throwing on your boots and mentally wishing it was late enough, you emerge from your tent and see that the camp is empty. The fire from supper was completely burnt out, and the large pile of dishes piled up near the lake camp was showing that everyone had indeed turned in for the night. Turning your head once again, you see Scratch and the owlbear cub huddled next to one another, sleeping soundly. You smile softly, your heart melting that they are bonding so well with one another. Trying to be as quiet as possible, you leave the camp and head into the nearby forest.
In a moment in time when there were so many new feelings and unfamiliar things around you; from being abducted by illithids, seeing the hells, waking up in what seemed to be the middle of nowhere, and having an uninvited guest in your brain, the forest provided comfort. No matter where in Faerûn, trees will always be trees, the dirt path made by countless feet that trekked forward in their journeys, made you feel less alone and confused. Walking over bushes, you decide to mindlessly wander, not worrying about the pain in your feet or where you end up. There weren’t many sounds in the dead of night, other than the wind that shook the leaves and bushes, the distinct animal noises of nocturnal animals, and your footsteps. You don’t pay much attention to it, however, rather you choose to blank entirely. The traveling and battles from earlier in the day left you mentally exhausted, as well as physically but that was neither here nor there since you were always physically tired or sore, your mind was left both restless yet still. An internal paradox that you found yourself in recently. Much of how your relationship with Shadowheart was a paradox in itself. While it was difficult to say that you were in love with the mysterious woman, especially since it had not been too long since you two had met, it wasn’t hard to conclude that a part of you consistently yearned for her. Desired to hear the sound of her voice, to feel her gaze upon you, to comb her hair as it rested upon her shoulders, to have her touch you in ways that no other before has. A part of you dreamed that she could one day let you into her mind, into the deepest darkest parts of her mind, where you would find solace there as just she wormed her way into your mind. A constant plague that you could not rid of, not that you wanted to.
However, that was the lingering problem that shifted the foundation of what could be. The beliefs that you both hold make you enemies by default. The very belief that a sharran and a selunite even being friendly was unheard of. Nevertheless, you befriended one, hell you even kissed one, something that younger you would stress about, wondering if you were turning to the Lady of Loss. Not that you would, you find that the beliefs of your dear moon maiden held were truly a resonate of your own, and you weren’t saying that since you grew up with it. From your very limited understanding of the Lady of Loss, you found the very idea of wallowing in the dark with no hope seemed very unhealthy. From what Shadowheart told you, which was also as limited since her memory was removed, it seemed that Shar was lying to her followers, saying that she was easing their pain when in reality she was just adding to it.
‘How could she worship a goddess that causes her to be left in the dark and pain,’ You wonder, looking at the ground as you walk and begin to pursue your lips. Eventually, you begin to slow down, coming to a full stop at the texture change from under your shoes. You look up and see a lake, one that is possibly connected to camp, as the moon dances on the water, light ripples distorting the image. Breathing in the sight, you consider undressing and wandering into the water, before shaking the thought. While it was tempting, you find that it would be a hassle putting your clothes back on. Instead, you kick off your sandals and roll up the legs of your pants, and wander to the water before seating yourself down, just far enough to where your butt won’t get too wet. There you sat for a while, taking in the sight, smell, and sounds of the area around you. You feel your mind slow down, your eyes getting heavy at the comfort of the water as it rocked and kissed higher on your calf. Just as you were about to leave yourself completely vulnerable to the wilderness and let your mind wander into the night sky, a voice rang through your ears.
“Well, I certainly did not expect you to be so far from camp.”
Your eyes shot up, startling you awake. You don’t know who you were expecting when you turn your head, however, the last person that comes to mind is Shadowheart. Her hair was down from its chain and braid as it rested over her shoulder and draped to her mid-back. With that being the only outlier, Shadowheart looked the same as how she did the night before. Even though you wanted to say something, your mind was too slow to react, so you just looked at her. Embarrassed that you could not utter a sound, you turn your attention back to the lake. She chuckles, a noise that reaches your ears and tickles them ever so slightly, and you feel your ears and face get warm. Focusing solely on the lake and the reflection of the moon, you could only listen as she shuffled behind you. Far too nervous to catch her gaze, but still nipping with curiosity at what she is doing, you look at her from the corner of your eyes.
Not paying you any mind, she sat next to you, albeit a bit away from the water, which you assume was because she was not in favor of getting wet. Nervous that she will catch your gaze, you look away once more as the wind starts to softly blow. The both of you sit there in silence, unaware of what Shadowheart is thinking and you are far too nervous to break the silence, lest you say the wrong thing.
‘Truthfully, what is the wrong thing to say?’ You mentally quip to yourself, ‘Rather…what is the right thing to say…Should I break the silence? Does Shadowheart have something to say? Why is she also out here? Did she foll-’
“Was..there any particular reason you left camp?” Shadowheart asks, her voice stopping your thoughts. You look at her, a stunned look on your face. You were astonished at the fact that she was actively engaging in conversation rather than avoiding it. She is facing forward but looking at you from the corner of her eyes. Feeling your face get warm at her stare, you turn your head once again.
“I just..wanted some fresh air…” You murmur, bringing your knees closer to your chest and hugging them. You didn’t think to elaborate further, finding your reasoning sound enough. If you were completely honest with yourself, you were being slightly petty due to her avoidance. Shadowheart, who seemingly accepted the reasoning, sighed to herself, in a way that could be depicted as relief. Although you found it odd, you didn’t bring attention to it, rather resting your head on your knees. You both sat in silence, the sounds of the surrounding area being the only thing that stopped the moment from being dead quiet. Once again, content with the peace, you feel your eyes drooping once more.
“You didn’t come out here to meet anyone?” Shadowheart asks, breaking the silence and waking you up once more. Confused by her question and unsure if you even heard her correctly, you turn your body and look at her. She was actually looking at you, her head turned in your direction. Although it might have been your mind playing tricks on you or wishful thinking, it seemed that her eyes were a green of jealousy. Nonetheless, she blinks and it seems that she hid whatever emotion she was harboring.
“What? Why would I come out here to meet someone?” You ask her, as she shrugs and turns her head away from you, looking at the lake again. Thinking you weren’t getting an answer in response, your mind begins to wonder with various questions. Trying to make sense of your thoughts, you let one slip past the barriers of your lips.
“Why have you been avoiding me?” You ask, your voice much softer than you wanted it to be. Sounding much more hurt than you wanted to reveal, your mind and voice wanting to show her how her avoidance pained you. Though you hate to admit it, you are sure your face is showing that pain just as much as your voice did. She doesn’t move, mimicking that of a statute; Neither do you, not to turn to look at her, in fear of her seeing your face and you never getting an answer. You both sit there for a moment, your question leaving you feeling like you just shouted into the void and expecting an answer back.
After a moment, she lets out a breath, seemingly holding it in. As if she was not expecting that question and didn’t want to answer it.
“I do not think we can be together.”
Upon hearing her words, you feel as if your very soul was de-rooted so violently, that it took the very foundation of who you were down. The void answered, with a truth that you avoided and did not want. The truth that haunted you after you kissed her under the moonlight and the stars away from the party. Plagued your mind when you would think of who you were and who she was. It seemed to have shattered every thought, every wish, and every dream you had of holding her and that she hold you in return. With all of the shattering going on in your mind, you cannot utter anything else other than a simple, “Oh.”
“It’s just…” Shadowheart trails off, trying to find her words. She seems to struggle for a bit, so you decide to make it easier for her and leave.
With the hurt of your body and heart and the threat of tears in your eyes, you stand up. Not wanting your not-lover to see you cry, you quickly wipe the tears that were threatening to fall out and sniffle. Washing off your feet of any sand, you place your sandals on and head back to camp, not caring that you are leaving her behind. Not noticing Shadowheart pulled her knees to her chest, as she rested her head into her arms. Unknowing of the inner turmoil that was going on between her mind and her heart; the war between her sprouting care and affection for you and the dedication she has to her faith.
The way back was agonizing, your heart heavy with hurt and your mind yelling for sleep while also overthinking every bit of interaction with Shadowheart. The more you walked, the feeling of more tears threatened to fall and let you shed every ounce of heartache and misery. Picking up the pace, you cannot help but think about your reaction.
Surely you could have handled this way better in theory, but in practice? Was Shadowheart so deeply rooted into your mind, that the mere rejection shattered you whole? Did you crave her affection so badly that even the cold sharp end of a knife stab would have felt better than this? No matter how frigid and distant she was, how did you not lose an ounce of interest in her? Would you betray your goddess, just to be within Shadowheart’s gaze?
It seemed that as you asked more questions to yourself, the lack of answers seemed to spiral into more questions. However, you knew that you would never be able to answer the questions that spiraled in your mind. Eventually, you stumbled upon the camp, seeing Astarion was the only one up and about. His eyes turned to you, gaze softening at the sight of you rather than a rabid animal or an enemy trying to attack in the night. Upon seeing your expression, one of anguish and with tears already falling, his face morphs into concern for a moment before blanking.
“Did something happen, o’ fearless leader?” He asked, using the nickname he used to tease you once you were bestowed the mantle of leader. Maybe calling you your nickname was his way of comforting you. Not that you stood around long enough to find out. Rather than answering him, you decide to go straight into your tent. He makes a noise, one that sounds like he wants you to stop, but he doesn’t move from his spot.
Once inside your tent, you head to your sleeping bag and tuck yourself under it. Not wanting to wake everyone, but also needing to let out your emotions, you opt to cry silently into your hands. Trying whatever way to muffle your sobs as they wracked through your body. Curled up into yourself, you eventually fall into a dreamless sleep.
─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───
Upon waking up, you immediately notice the sunlight is more prominent through your tent's fabric. Finding this odd, you immediately sit up and try to leave your tent as fast as you can. Crawling to the tent flap, you squint your eyes at the bright light of the day, noticing that it is far past the normal time you awoke. You look up to confirm your suspicions and see that the sun is most definitely showing it was later in the day, almost to the midpoint of the sky. As you crawled out of the tent, emerging from the cocoon of emotions you barracked yourself in last night, you saw Wyll making his way to you. It took you a bit to stand up fully, while your body was mostly recovering from the longer-than-average rest, it was still sore from the battles and wandering you and your party had been doing these past weeks. The horned man was already in front of you by the time you stood tall, patiently waiting.
“Good morning,” He smiles softly at you. You nod back, your mood still somewhat in shambles due to your previous night's adventure. Rather, you had more pressing matters to attend to, such as-
“Why did no one wake me up?”
Wyll doesn’t say anything but stares at you with the same look.
“Astarion told us what happened last night,” He starts. Afraid of where this was going, you feel your heart and stomach plummet through the ground, possibly landing in the Underdark somewhere. Wyll seems to take notice of the mild panic on your face and corrects himself. “Rather, he told us you came back to camp a wreck. He told us he was unsure what could have distressed you so. Karalach and Gale were the ones to suggest that we leave you to rest.”
With his explanation, you start to relax a little bit. Of course, Asartion would tell everyone. Though you know you couldn’t be too angry at him, rather fond of the fact that he was worried. It warmed you a bit that even though the vampire elf kept his emotions to himself for the most part, he ditched that belief for just a moment and expressed worry. You make a mental note to thank him and work towards a better friendship with him. Pushing that thought to the back of your mind along with any residue of yesterday evening, you smile softly at Wyll.
“I appreciate that, thank you.” Your voice sounds way more stable than you thought it would be. “Though, in the future, I would appreciate being woken up, even if there is concern for me. After all, we don’t know how much time we have before the whole tadpole thing turns us into illithids.”
Wyll doesn’t say much, just hums and nods, before being called by Lae’zel. He whips his head before turning back to you with a shy smile, one that you return with your smile and shoo him away. He scampers to Lae’zel, leaving you alone still standing in front of your tent. You sigh and relax your body a bit before you head to go to the stash of food the camp keeps. After not eating much throughout the previous day, it was starting to catch up with you with your stomach growling. At the stash, you begin to look for something quick to fuel you before you attempt to cook anything. Finding nothing that piqued your interest, you decided to head into the forest to see if there was anything edible. As you were heading to leave the camp alone, you passed Karalach, whose back was to you. You step towards her and begin to call out to her, however before you can utter a sound you step on a branch, alerting her to your presence. Turning to the source, Karlach seems to move away from what-who she was interacting with. Just beyond Karalach was Shadowheart, with a look you cannot describe. You spend a while looking at her, so many mixed feelings rushing to you faster than anything you can describe. Before you got swept away in the tidal waves of emotions, Karlach’s voice snapped you out of the trance you were in.
“Hey, soldier! How are you holdin’ up?” While her face had a big smile on it, it also had a look of concern. Turning your attention to the buff tiefling, you put on a strained smile before answering her.
“Better now that I’ve had more than 4 hours of sleep.”
“Really?” Her shock was evident, as she shifted slightly so the front of her body was facing you. She makes a glance to Shadowheart, something you feel you cannot stomach to do at the moment. You nod and respond.
“Yeah…I was just about to head off.”
“All alone?” Shadowheart says for the first time. Her voice rings in your ears as you feel your knees go weak for a moment. You cannot help but want to ignore her, to give her a taste of how she has made you feel; however, you decide against it, being in front of someone else.
‘That doesn’t mean I have to look at her.’ You reason to yourself before looking to the forest, trying not to make it obvious that you were avidly avoiding looking at her. “I wasn’t going to go far. Just wanted something light.”
Nothing is said for a moment before Shadowheart speaks again.
“I’ll go wi-”
“There is no need. I can go alone.” You cut her off, your voice coming off more harshly than you expected it to. However you couldn’t find it in yourself at that moment to apologize, rather you say your quick goodbyes and leave. In your absence was a puzzled Karlach at the thick tension between yourself and Shadowheart. She doesn’t say much, still feeling the tension, quickly making up an excuse before leaving. In her wake was a Shadowheart who was staring off in the direction you took off in. Left in the shadow that she herself had cast upon you.
However this time, the reason for it was known, and she had no one to blame but herself.
sorry, not at the moment. i think i killed minthara at the beginning by shoving her into a ditch or something so i dont really know anything about her 😭 after i finish my current play through, i'll spare her and see what all the hypes about :3
18+ request: in modern/au, fem!reader and Alcina are married and she's a college professor and she's on a zoom call and reader tries to break her composure, like eating her out underneath her desk?
thank you!!!
Getting that A
Pairings: Alcina Dimitrescu x Fem!Reader
Summary: Alcina seems stressed, so much paperwork and now a lecture over zoom? It only seems right as her wife to try and lighten her load - on your knees.
Warnings: Roleplaying, a little degradation, exhibitionism, Modern AU
There are very few people who would willingly listen to two hours worth of art history, but when the lessons were taught by your goddess of a wife? Suddenly it didn’t seem so bad. Maybe it was the way the vocabulary rolled off her silver tongue or perhaps the designer glasses that sat perched perfectly on the ridge of her angular nose. You couldn’t care for the reason, all you knew was that you were married to the sexiest professor in all of Romania (possibly the world) and she was missing from her rightful spot between your thighs.
Your knuckles knocked quickly against the deep mahogany wood of Alcina’s office door, followed by a distant “Come in.”
Pushing open the heavy door, your eyes immediately fixate on Alcina’s powerful figure sitting behind her desk. You shoo the lustful thoughts away as you note the stacks of paper scattered across the desk along with a pale finger rubbing at her brow bone - a habit you’ve come to know when your wife is particularly stressed.
“Draga? Is everything alright?” You’re snapped out of your own little world by weary blue eyes searching yours.
“Hm? Oh yeah, I brought your lunch up since you skipped breakfast.”
She resumes her incessant scribbling as you gently rearrange a few papers to make room for the tray. “How sweet of you, my love. Thank you.”
Though she made no move to react any further, her eyes remained glued to the documents. Taking this as a challenge, you saunter around the desk until you're by your wife’s side. Your hands glide along the neatly rolled sleeves that cling just enough to her forearms, up to her tense shoulders where your fingers press into a tight knot at the base of her neck. Alcina’s reaction is immediate, her hand stilling, her long eyelashes fluttering shut and the sinfully low groan that rumbles deep from within her chest.
“You’ve been working so hard, take a break, baby.” Your breath tickles the shell of her ear and you punctuate the end of your sentence with a nip at her earlobe.
“Don’t start something you can’t finish, I have a zoom lesson in five minutes.” Her tone is threatening but all it does is make you want her more.
Alcina was a very experimental woman and that extended into your sex life. There was a particular kink that you knew she had that had been untouched for quite some time. This was quite a fitting situation to strike at it.
“I’m sure I could help you de-stress and listen to the lecture at the same time, professor.”
Her eyes meet yours, silently asking if this is what she thought it was, all you offer is a cheeky grin as you kneel like a saint at the feet of their goddess - you were always ready to worship your lady.
“Let me help you, professor, please?”
The space underneath her desk is slightly larger than an average sized desk because Alcina was anything but average. From this angle, she got a wonderful view of your cleavage that your tight dress top did little to conceal. She might not outwardly express it but the dilation of her pupils was all the encouragement you needed to nuzzle your cheek against the cold metal of her belt buckle - your hands groping and squeezing the strong muscle of her thighs.
Alcina tuts at your neediness, “Such a slut. Well go on, prove yourself useful and I just might let you pass.” She goes back to work, now clicking away at her computer to get the zoom meeting ready.
You unbuckle her belt with vigor, dropping it on the floor with a soft thud when it makes contact with the plush rug that aids your exposed knees that will surely bruise after this. The button on her suit pants is stubborn and takes a bit of cautioned yanking that earns you a glare but you undo it nonetheless. You tug the pants down just below her knee caps, revealing her lacy black underwear. Alcina spares you one last glance before clicking the “start meeting” button, students knowing your wifes strict rule of punctuality, begin flooding into the meeting.
The heady smell of her arousal mixed with the accents of her perfume and cigarettes mix to create an aphrodisiac that only you would ever witness. Shuffling forward, you press your tongue flat against the wet patch that stains the center of her underwear. The faint taste adds to the burning heat between your own thighs. Hungry for more, you yank the delicate lace to the side - a moan nearly slipping out from your lips as the sight of Alcina’s puffy, wet pussy is on full display for you.
Her voice, deepened by her lust, begins the lecture but it sounds worlds away to you. Your wife is notorious for her powerful voice, which is just as commanding and boisterous in bed. And as much as you’d love to make her scream your name - you didn’t want the undeserving students in the call to witness what solely belongs to you. To avoid this, you begin by slowly cleaning the insides of her thighs where her slick has collected. Your tongue trails up the sides of her cunt, narrowly missing her soaked folds. Alcina glares down at you over the rim of her half-moon glasses, her nostrils flaring from the teasing that she couldn’t stop you from carrying out.
But for both your sanities, you finally relent. Pressing your tongue against her swollen clit draws a shaky exhale through her nose and a feather light whimper from yourself. Your tongue stays there, drawing little circles before dipping down to taste her straight from the source. Above you, Alcina digs her manicured nails into the top of her desk in an effort to keep her tone even. Yet when you stuff your tongue inside her, her composure quickly begins to crack. Her velvety walls clench against your slick muscle as you work it in and out of her needy slit, her body twitching as the tip of your tongue presses against the spongey little spot inside her that you know all too well.
Alcina quickly asks a question, allowing one of her students to answer, giving her a brief moment to focus on your motions. Her hand sneaks down to thread between your locks, her grip is tight and the sharp points of her nails scrape against your scalp ever so slightly. The added pressure to your head pushes your face further into her pussy, your nose now rubbing just right against her clit. The new friction against her clit mixed with the scandalous situation sends her to the brink of cumming embarrassingly fast. A large black pump gets thrown over your shoulder, the heel digging into your shoulder blade. The burn from both the heel and her nails along with your own arousal that drips from underneath your skirt encourages you to ignore the aching in your jaw and fuck your wifes dripping cunt faster.
“I apologize but a family emergency has c-come up. I will pick up from where we ended next week.” Her rushed excuse doesn’t register in your head but the obscenely loud moan after she ends the meeting does.
You get one last thrust in before her walls start twitching, constricting your tongue - forcing you to helplessly take the coating and gushing of cum. It clings to your tongue as you pull it out from her pulsing cunt, taking a long pause to enjoy the taste as it slides down your throat when you swallow.
“So professor, how was that? Surely A plus worthy.” You question smugly.
Alcina rests her head back against the leather headrest of her plush office chair, her eyes shut as she basks in the afterglow of her orgasm.
“Perhaps a B minus at best.”
An offended and quite appalled gasp rips from your drenched lips as you stare incredulously at her. She opens one eye to look down at you, her face completely neutral before she cracks a grin, little giggles tumbling out before they turn into full laughs.
“Joking, darling! I can’t help myself when you react so adorably.” She rolls her chair back to give you enough space to lift you up into her lap. You refuse to look at her, your bottom lip pushed out in a pout and your arms crossed securely over your chest.
“Oh? Is my little dove upset with me? What a shame, I only give rewards to those who don’t pout and ignore their amazing wives.” Alcina noses along the curve of your neck, red lips passing the color of her expensive lipstick onto your skin. Her fingers deftly reach under your skirt to trace your cunt through your thoroughly soaked panties.
“I- I want a-an A..!” You whine out.
Watching Alcina unravel so beautifully nearly brought you to your own orgasm, untouched. Still, you were turned on and your sensitivity was cranked all the way up. A throaty chuckle reverberates against your skin.
“And you got your A, Dragul meu.” She rises to press her lips against yours in a slow kiss, she invades your mouth, moaning into the kiss at the taste of herself. Though the moment is broken when the sound of the front door opening followed by the loud bickering of your three daughters echoes into the large office. You drop your head onto Alcina’s chest with a groan.
“I didn’t even get to cum…”
“We both need a shower, perhaps I could give you your reward there.”
That was all you needed before you were booking it to your bathroom connected to your bedroom. Alcina shaking her head in amusement at your antics while redressing.
hey guys! im sorry for being inactive for so long - but im not dead!!! this break was much needed and it reinvigorated me - i really want to write again! im gonna get around to the requests in my inbox but right now i really want to write for the ladies of baldurs gate and resident evil village. so if yall have any requests, send them my way! :3
Thoughts on the ow lesserafim video? All I can think about is going to a kpop concert with Sombra now as her gf imagine getting her all the merch and how happy she’d be 😭
OMFGGEHWHWHQ IT WAS SO GOODOODODE i dont usually like brig like that BUT SHE HAD ME FEELING THINGSSSS😻😻
SOMVRA WAS SO CUTE TOO OMLLLLL
this picture of her in the backs so cute :( LIKE IMAGINE HOW MUCH FUN A CONCERT DATE WITH HER WOULD BE
olivia on her bike....😻😻😻😻 a tear ran down my thigh. like...imagine what yall could do on it 👀
but after the concert yall ate mcdonalds in your merch while looking through your pictures :3
UPDATE: SOMBRAS OUTFIT SHOWS HER HIPS???? IM GONNA PASS OUT I CANT BRETAHE
Submitted by @sgetous: "sombra smut and fluff with fem latina reader 🌚 the plot can be up to you! im just sooo THIRSTY for sombra"
Drunk on You
pairings: sombra x fem! latina reader
summary: after one too many drinks at festival de la luz in sombra's hometown, she gets a little too handsy in the club
warnings: bottom!sombra, top!reader, public sex (Olivia gets horny on the dance floor), semi public sex, alcohol consumption, weed, intoxication, bad google translated spanish, not proof read bc im tired
a/n: as an asian, i don't know how to write for latinas BUT I TRIED MY BEST (also, i attempted a new format bc im trying to be like those cutesie aesthetic fanfic girlies)
As the New Year approached and festivities were in full force, Talon's schemes were put on hold. And considering it was officially your first year with Olivia, you thought it was rightfully fitting to spend the holidays together in one of your home towns. Olivia didn't seem to share the sentiment.
When you proposed the idea to her, her fingers stopped working at the holographic keyboard instantaneously. "Why would you want to go there?"
Even with her back turned to you, you could just hear the curl in her upper lip to really emphasize the "there". Though you paid no mind to her obvious distaste, instead, gripping the leather of her office chair to swivel her around to face you. Olivia's arms were crossed and her bottom lip poked out ever so slightly in the smallest of pouts.
Bending down to rest your hands on the arm rests of her chair gives Olivia the perfect view of your cleavage accentuated by your tank top. Distractedly, the hacker licks her lips, eyeing the remnants of faded hickeys that lingered on the flesh. Taking advantage of the situation, you lean further down, trailing your nose along the length of her neck until you reach her ear.
"Por favor, amor"
The groan she lets out and the subtle tilt of her head backwards lets you know that you're definitely getting your way (in more than one way), after all Olivia was always weak for you.
That's how you ended up 7 shots deep into the winter night of Dorado's chilly air. But the sweaty bodies bumping against one another in the cramped club and the alcohol flowing through your veins brought an intoxicating warmth to the air. And as much of a fuss Olivia made about the trip (she agreed after a long night in bed and on the account that you stayed relatively hidden in an underground club), she seemed to be enjoying herself just as much as you were - if not more.
This was one of the rare occasions that Olivia didn't have to care about Talon or work and she was ready to take full advantage of it. And that she did.
At this point, you didn't know how many drinks she had drunk or how many joints she smoked. All you knew was that her hips were grinding against your ass and her lips were bruising your neck with promises of her love for you. Olivia's breaths were heavy against your skin as her hips swayed and rocked, her hands dragging along your waist to match her movements. It was simply intoxicating - she was intoxicating.
"Feel's so good, Corazón- so good,"
The change of pace makes you turn your head to the side, Olivia's hips more so rutting into your ass instead of actually dancing and the blissed out expression on her face made her intentions a little too obvious. As turned on and drunk as you were, you were not about to have sex in a sea of partygoers.
With more force than you thought you needed to use, you pull your body away from Olivia's iron grip. The whine she lets out makes a small smile spread on your lips.
"Come, Liv, let's take a break" You have to shout the words a little louder than necessary solely because of how loud the music was.
But the hacker seemed almost in a haze - nodding obediently while taking your guiding hand.
The small bathroom drowns out a little of the blasting music, enough for you to be able to hear your own thoughts without a base drop accompanying it. Sparing a glance at Olivia slumped against the tile of the wall, in between her lips sits a sloppily rolled joint she must've snagged from a random table. The smoke filters throughout the bathroom, forcing you to lean over the rim of the sink to get a better view of your smudged make up. Pulling together what little amount of soberness left in your body, you carefully drag the lip liner across the edges of your lips.
The feeling of familiar hands dragging up your arms to your shoulders pulls your gaze away from your lips to meet Olivia's eyes in the mirror. The typical violet irises are almost completely drowned out by her dilated pupils. Her eyes follow the ministrations, now of your lip-gloss smearing across your lips.
Once you secure the items back in your bag, Olivia slips the joint from her lips to yours - her eyes never leaving from your lips wrapping around the joint. Slowly, you inhale, the smoke puffing up your lungs with burning addiction. Two of your fingers pluck the joint from your lips, smearing your lip-gloss ever so slightly. The sight of your smudged make up and the smoke escaping your pretty lips has Olivia biting at her lip hard enough to draw blood.
"Chica bonita, mi chica bonita," Olivia mumbles the words like a prayer, her thumb reaching up to wipe at the smeared gloss.
As her thumb drags along your bottom lip, you slip it into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the digit, drawing back to press against the pad of it - opting to hollow your cheeks and suck along the weight of it. The innocent look on your face as you look up at her through your lashes with her thumb snug between your lips does unimaginable things to her.
Olivia reluctantly pulls her thumb out and brings the joint, still held between your fingertips, to her mouth. She holds the smoke in her mouth and pulls you in for a bruising kiss - breathing the smoke into your awaiting lungs. Olivia's lips are unrelenting, the kiss is sloppy and it's just what you wanted - all teeth and tongue, almost like she was trying to devour all of you.
Her hands roam across your body, mapping out every curve and contour of your body. And yet it's not enough for her.
"Touch me. Need you Corazón" Olivia's hands are greedy - one groping at your body and the other pushing your own down her jeans. The amount of slick pooling and seeping through her panties (if not for the dim lighting, you'd surely see a dark patch along the seam of her jeans) makes you moan against her lips.
The position is awkward for your hand but as worked up as Olivia is, even the slightest bit of friction could make her cum. Your unmoving hand has her whining and begging into the messy kisses.
"Please, please- fuck! Need you so badly baby," Typically Olivia was a stuck up brat who refused to beg unless she had been edged or teased for quite some time so seeing her submit so easily was a pleasant surprise.
Olivia's hips took the initiative, grinding helplessly against your palm - even that had her eyes rolling into the back of her head. Taking pity on her you pushed two fingers into her, the digits slipping in with no resistance. The moan she lets out is raw and rips from the back of her throat - her head throwing back in euphoria.
"Did you just cum...?" In any other scenario, Olivia would've been embarrassed - knowing that you wouldn't let her live down the fact that she had came so fast. But at this point she couldn't care. All that mattered was that you had two fingers knuckle deep inside of her and she needed a third.
"Don't..hah..stop!" Her voice breaks into a moan at the exclamation.
Taking mercy on her, you work a third digit into her greedy pussy. Pumping the digits in and out of her - smearing slick across her inner thighs and fabric of her ruined panties. The movement that she oh so craved has her screaming and clamping down on the exposed skin of your chest. Shifting ever so slightly for a better angle, you're able to brush against the spongy texture of her g-spot.
"Oh my god- fuck! I'm gonna cum, Y/N-"
Her words die on her tongue as you swiftly pull out your fingers from her, a loud banging on the locked wooden door catching your attention.
"Yo! Anyone in here??" The sounds of a feminine laugh and a masculine voice shouting brings you back to reality - remembering you were occupying the bathroom that other horny couples wanted to exploit.
Olivia's eyes are frantic, her eyebrows cinched together. "I swear to god Y/N if you don't make me cum in the next five seconds I'll delete everything from your phone"
"Better keep quiet then, Princesa"
Swiftly you bring your free hand up to clamp itself against her mouth as you pick up the pace. Curling your fingers repeatedly against her g-spot which in turn grinds your palm against her swollen clit.
Even with the make shift muffle, her scream lets the couple know that the bathroom is currently in use.
AHHH BESTIE IM SORRY 🥲🥲 i had midterms and a bunch of projects and upcoming tests, your girl is strugglingggg 😭 i have a sombra fic that should be coming out today tho :3
Fic where Widowmaker’s girlfriend secretly learns a love song in French for her because she’s shy and bad at expressing her feelings 🫶?
Suns and Stars
FICS ARE COMINGGG ive been busy with projects and tests BUT IM GONNA LOCK IN FOR KINKTOBER REQUESTS but enjoy this fluff :)
It's been 6 months. 6 damn months in you and Amélie's relationship and you still hadn't said the three big words: I love you. You've tried. But every time you get even remotely close, the words die on your tongue. God, you can't even kiss her without your body temperature skyrocketing - so how the hell were you supposed to express how much you loved her?
Everyday at exactly 8 AM, Amélie does her morning stretches, yoga and cardio sessions. You've been using this to your advantage - sneaking out of bed a few minutes after her to practice your French in an abandoned music room on the far side of the castle, then slipping back in before she comes back to take a shower. This morning followed the routine.
Soft padding from your fluffy slippers shuffling against the tile floor echoes against the stone walls, the sounds barely registering in your groggy mind. Your eye lids still felt heavy from sleep - a soft huff of a yawn escaping from your lips. The room is spacious yet empty, forgotten pieces of furniture scattered amongst the dust but a grand piano remaining in the middle. Faintly you can just barely make out on the body of the piano, a neatly carved heart with the cheesy "A+G" initials in the center - a testament of the history now long gone.
The squeak from the rusty hinges of the fallboard causes you to cringe while lowering yourself to the cold leather bench. From your pocket, you unfold the sheet music to "Je l'aime à mourir", small notes and lines scribbled across the paper. By now you know the song by heart but every time you hear even the slightest noise you lose concentration and forget the notes.
In a practiced motion, your fingers draw towards the correct keys. Time seems to stop with everything in your mind fading with it except for one name: Amélie.
The lyrics begin as a soft hum, gradually increasing with the piano in crescendo. Melodies flutter throughout the room, carrying the harmonies deep into the rest of the castle - unbeknownst to you.
A pair of golden eyes stare at the back of your head, a far off look present in the irises. The overwhelming rush of emotions is almost painful, her heart defying the countless hours spent to repress any and all traces of soul left in the shell of the French woman. Distantly Amélie can feel the mourning, the grief, the utter anguish squeezing at her heart. Memories of her past life - the life that she could never have - glimmers like twinkling stars; Thousands of miles away yet shining ever so brightly.
But bittersweetly, the only happy ending she can envision is a life with you. Gerard may have been her stars but you are her sun. The warmth and light of her life - the very reason for her existence.
"Je l'aime à mourir" (I love her to death)
The French rolls off your tongue perfectly and raw, unadulterated love floods through her veins. Amélie believes that no experiment or torture can take this feeling away.
As the final note fades out, you nearly jump out of your skin as cool air brushes against your ear.
"You play beautifully Chérie, such a talented girl," Amélie's voice lacks the usual teasing undertone, sounding unusually vulnerable. You move to turn your body but her strength outmatches yours. Her forehead rests against your shoulder, a worrying dampness sinking into the fabric down to your skin. Instinctively your hands reach behind you to stroke her purple tresses, a small attempt at comforting your lover.
"Do you mean it?" Amélie's voice is hushed and muffled against your body, quivering ever so slightly.
The question makes you hesitate but not because of your love for her. No, you knew with every atom in your body that you loved Amélie - but saying it out loud had your body tensing. Though your silence sends the wrong message. Amélie begins pulling away from you, off put and disappointed by the lack of a response.
"Je t'aime! I- I love you so much." The words stumble out clumsily in one breath - desperately trying to make up for your silence.
Amélie pauses and you swing your legs over the bench to face her. She leans closer, her eyebrows pushed together - traces of fear and vulnerability lingering in her orbs.
"Truly?" Right now, she was just Amélie, not Widowmaker, not the emotionless assassin - right now she's just your Amélie.
"Yes! God - I'm so stupid. I should've told you sooner but I just couldn't get it out! I...I really do love you though, Amé"
In a flash, her lips surge to capture yours. The force slams your back into the keys creating an ugly shrill, piercing sound, akin to a noise in a horror movie. But you pay no attention to it, hell, you don't even notice it when Amélie's lips are devouring yours. The kiss is bruising and your chest burns from the lack of air but it didn't matter, no only Amélie mattered right now.
Sharp, black nails dig into your soft robe, pulling your body impossibly closer. Her lips trail up to your ear, a fanged canine catching the lobe as she whispers:
"You don't know how long I've waited to hear you say that Mon Amour, je t'aime aussi"
kinktober day 002 | secretary!natalie rushman x ceo!reader
natasha's mission to retrieve a thumbdrive file involves seducing a high-ranking executive, and the seduction goes smoothly. a little too well, in fact, that she doesn't notice you're not all you seem to be.
cont. reader has a cock, power play, begging
word count. 1869
kinktober masterlist || main masterlist
To Natasha, you were nothing more than just another target.
She was an unfathomably, dangerously-skilled assassin, feared across nations and intelligence bureaucracies. She was a Red Room widow gone rogue, taking things in her own stride and shifting the world upside down as she pleased. Renowned political figures and billionaire executives were dropping like flies, and you, were no different.
This time, Natasha Romanoff was going undercover as Natalie Rushman.
It had been embarrassingly easy for her to infiltrate security and create a false persona for herself. Climbing up the ranks of a corporate business like this one had been more time-consuming, sure, spanning over a few months, but Natalie would reap what she sow.
Chief Executive Officer Y/N L/N was all-too-easy to fool, even more gullible than the other targets Natasha had preyed upon.
All it took was the classic seduction: bending over to ‘pick up a pen’, coincidentally right in your field of vision, clinging onto your arm and looking up with wide doe eyes while you talked, giggling shyly when you made a joke and tucking a lock of hair behind her ear.
In the end, all her targets got caught up in the Widow’s Web. You were rendered useless and completely at Natasha’s mercy, waiting to be preyed upon for manipulation and her own personal gain.
Or at least, that’s what you let her think.
“Fuck, baby,” you cursed, eyes screwed shut as your secretary bobbed her head up and down the girthy length of your cock, lewd noises escaping both your lips.
Natalie looked up at you through glossy eyes, bottle-red lipstick smeared but unarguably pretty, batting her eyelashes every so often. It had only taken a week of flirting before you took her home, your actions seemingly foolish.
“Take it all down your throat, Natalie, fuck,” you said breathily, hands tugging onto her hair as you chased your own high. Natasha almost choked on the length in her mouth at the fast pace you had set, but she quickly hollowed out her cheeks to engulf your wet heat once more.
Shit, it had been a while since Natasha had gotten such a thick cock, above average in length, too. Normally, these high-ranking executives had disappointingly miniscule excuses of a member, but this was thrillingly different.
Still, Natasha couldn’t forget why she had made all this effort to get to your house.
“Fuck, babe, you’re too good at this,” you comment breathlessly, chest heaving as you come down from your high. “Bedroom?”
To speed up the process, Natasha finished you off with her hands working on the base of your cock, calculated squeezes and strokes that had you jerking your hips up as you toppled over the edge. Jets of hot white come went down Natasha’s throat, as she greedily sucked and swallowed.
Tastes fucking good too, she thought. Maybe this won’t be so bad.
Natasha had to refrain from rolling her eyes. What you wanted was predictable, to have your cock inside her. She wanted something different, though. It was why she had embarked on this mission in the first place.
“Can we go to your office?” Natasha asks instead, never failing to load up on that sultry tone that had people falling to their knees. She licks her lips drenched in your seed, kissing her way up your unbuttoned shirt as she rises to her feet. Her navigation of your surprisingly well-built body ends at the column of your neck.
Calculatedly, Natasha presses her slick lips to the hot skin of your neck, her residual lipstick making an enviable mark there.
“I want you to bend me over your office desk.”
Natasha can’t help but smirk at your affected reaction. You hastily lift your secretary up by the back of her thighs, letting her hook her legs around your torso. A sloppy kiss kickstarts your burning need to meet her needs.
Of course, the sole reason why Natasha wanted to go to your office was to retrieve a very important thumb drive that was stored there. As you were the CEO of an incredibly powerful corporate firm, being able to have that kind of information meant a wealth of power, influence, and information.
There isn’t a doubt of the sinful possibilities floating through your mind right now, as you single-handedly unclasp her bra and rid of her remaining garments, as you stumble your way over to your office.
Everything was going according to Natasha's plan.
As if on cue, you kick open the door of your office and ungracefully deposit Natasha onto your desk. The way you’re manhandling her is arguably hot, and when you trail kisses down the back of Natasha’s neck, she quite nearly forgets what she came here to do.
“Need you inside me, now,” Natasha growls out, because she needs to get this operation going. What scares her for a moment is that her statement isn’t entirely untrue, because you were evidently more skilled than any of her previous counterparts and she so craved release.
You certainly don’t disappoint in that aspect, forcefully bending Natasha over the desk as she wished, then painstakingly slowly dragging her skirt down with your teeth.
“Fuck,” Natasha doesn’t mean to whimper when your cock slides between her wet folds, collecting slick arousal with that huge shaft, but she does whimper, and you let out a low noise from your chest.
As you’re busy getting your cock lubricated enough to enter her, Natasha seizes this opportune moment of your distraction to slides her hand over the desk to where your laptop was, unplugging the thumbdrive just as you speak up again.
“You’re fucking naughty, hm?” you growl, and Natasha freezes.
The fear envelops her whole, before Natasha realizes that you’ve remained blissfully oblivious to her actions and were trapped in the haze of sex.
“You’re fuckin’ naughty, wanting me to bend you over my table like that. Beg for my cock, and maybe I’ll let you use it.”
Natasha gulps, not understanding why she’s threatening to start drooling onto your desk, her body building up so much slick.
She’s the Black Widow, for fuck’s sakes, and she bowed down to no one. She was in control, dictating the decisions that crafted this very situation, hooking you around her pretty little finger.
After all, she had already retrieved the thumb drive. Her mission was already over, already completed. She had no reason to stay. She could knock you out cold in a matter of mere seconds, so why was she so hesitant?
Your grip hardens at her disobedience, and Natasha can’t help the whine that tumbles out when you pull your cock way from her wet heat.
“You want it, hm? Then beg for it,” you repeat, dangerously close to Natasha’s ear, raising goosebumps with your hot breath brushing the surface of her skin.
Natasha wails when you push her back into the desk, pebbled nipples pressing into the cold glass. She’s clenching around nothing, wet walls fluttering emptily, slick arousal dripping down her thighs.
Suddenly, you bring your hand up and harshly slap Natasha’s ass. The moan she lets out is downright pornographic, high-pitched and long-lasting as a red blush blossoms on her rounded ass, the pain stinging her skin and pricking tears behind her eyes.
It’s been so long, her body screams at her. You need this. Need to be fucked, need to be used.
“Beg for it.”
“Please! Need your cock, please,” Natasha babbles, finally, giving in to your urges. When you thrust your whole length down her tight pussy, all in one go, Natasha almost falls apart instantly.
You thrust up into her, hard, thick length pushing past her slick walls. If Natasha thought you were big before, with your cock in her mouth, now she knew you were fucking huge.
It isn’t long before you’re fucking into her with an animalistic nature, skin slapping against skin with dirty, lewd noises. “Can’t take the size, baby?” you question dryly, pulling on her hair as Natasha drools onto your desk.
Your cock is hitting her cervix with almost every thrust. The pleasure not only stems from the fact that you were the biggest she had ever taken, but also from your sheer skill.
Natasha’s first orgasm of the night comes in a tidal wave. It’s like water breaking through a dam, hitting her with a strength she didn’t know her body possessed. Her walls flutter around your girthy cock as she squirts.
“Oh, Y/N!” Sinful moans of your name fall from Natasha’s lips as you thrust even deeper than she thought imaginable.
In other words, that was only the beginning of the rollercoaster-esque high you would bring Natasha to.
***
Natasha awakes with groggy eyes. There’s a warm, muscled forearm splayed over her torso, and it takes a fraction of a second before Natasha remembers it’s you.
“Shit,” she whispers, looking out of the window at the rising sun. She was supposed to leave your house last night, but the events had gotten more than out of hand.
The ache in Natasha’s legs and back is a blaring reminder of that fact. The image of sweaty, slick bodies moving together in a darkened room flashes across Natasha’s mind, and she has the decency to flush a pink-red.
Checking again for the thumbdrive in her strewn clothes, Natasha nods to herself assuredly and gets herself together to make an exit. Her eyes float to your sleeping figure. Looks like she had worn you out.
“You’re kinda stupid, but you were a good fuck,” she whispers with a tilted head.
As soon as the front door of your house clicks shut, you sit up slowly, letting the blanket slide over your toned abdominal muscles and down to your waistline.
“Just a good fuck?” you ask amusedly. “Squirting three times in a row seems better than good, if I do say so myself.” Relaxed, you reach over to your bedside and take your phone.
Dialling in a number that you’d memorised by heart, the receiver picks up in less than two rings. “You’re fuckin’ late,” a gruff voice sounds out. “What did we tell you about not fucking the targets for the whole bloody night?”
You scoff in half-annoyance and amusement. As long as you got the job done, your bosses didn’t have any reason to question your methods. "You’re just jealous you didn’t get a taste of that sweet pussy,” you drawl out contedly, delighting in the aggravated huff that crackles over the line.
“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” you continue, your face taking on a more serious expression. “The Widow left my house thirty seconds ago, with the false thumb drive."
"Details?"
"Swapped it out while she was cumming on my cock, sir."
"......Microchip tracking device?"
"Implanted in the top button of her blouse."
"Audio recorder?"
"In the hem of her very scandalous skirt.”
There is a pause on the line, but you know not to fear. When a low chuckle is emitted from the other end, you can’t help but smirk in smug satisfaction. The next words you hear are almost as sweet as Natasha’s moans of your name.
"Well done, Agent. Your mission is complete."
if you liked this, please give it a reblog! it means the absolute world to me <3
I know widowmaker/amélie loved gerard, but he died a long time ago and I think she deserves to love and be loved again (in every way), especially after everything she's been through. i think life offers more than one way to be happy :)
EEEEEK THIS IS SO CUTEEEEHEHWHWH i wrote a small snippet about my thoughts :3
honestly i feel like no matter who she's with - gerard will always hold a piece of her heart. he was just such a monumental part of her life. even if you've been dating for a few weeks or married for decades, amélie will always get a little closed off around his deaths anniversary. but you keep her going. over the course of your relationship, you bring back the color in amélie's life. you teach her how to open her heart back up, to fall in love not only with yourself but with everyday occurrences too. the constant surveillance of talon makes it difficult but you bring back the domesticity that she missed so dearly. learning french from her, playing the piano together, cuddling by the fireplace in the chilly winters, doing laundry, etc. you've defrosted the parts of her that have forgotten the warmth of happiness <3
Depending on the night and how Amélie's feeling, the amount of affection she'll give you after sex varies. If she had pushed you out of your comfort zone then she'll curl her body around yours while whispering praises in your ear. If it was a typical night then she'll leave a good amount of space between you two but she will allow you to hold her hand/arm (she secretly loves when you trace her tattoo).
B = Body Part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)
Amélie loves her legs/ass solely based off the fact that you love them so dearly. She absolutely adores how you look between them when she makes you eat her out till she's satisfied.
Amélie favors your hands. Your hands seem so much more pure than hers. No matter what you've done or who you are - they offer her relief from the grief that she continues to suffer from. When you're hands are interlaced, it feels like some of her guilt's been washed away. (And your fingers know exactly how to fuck her but that's not the point)
C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)
She's not a huge fan of the taste of cum but wants you to be obsessed with hers. I feel like Amélie tastes pretty sweet because of her strict diets which makes her cum all the more addicting. This may be because of how possessive she is but Amélie gets off from seeing her cum on you. Whether it's smeared on your chin from riding your face or dripping down your fingers and wrist - she loves seeing it on you.
D = Dirty Secret (A dirty secret of theirs)
We all know that Olivia has access to all of the cameras throughout Talon's base. But who would've thought that Amélie would purposely take you to rooms where she knows a camera is so Olivia can watch just how good Amélie fucks you. She mainly started doing this because Olivia would playfully flirt with you before you and Amélie had gotten together, so she had to prove to the hacker who's name you scream when you're at the height of your orgasm.
E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they're doing?)
Amélie's experience was cut short due to her marriage with Gerard. She was married off to him at a pretty young age - abstaining from sex until she was properly wed. After turning into the ruthless assassin, the very idea of sex repelled her, at least not when she was still grieving over Gerard's death. But that all changes when you two get together. Amélie isn't clueless though, she's touched herself countless times and knows how to make you cum in record time.
F = Favorite Position
Face riding/sitting and reverse cowgirl. Something about seeing you smothered between her thick thighs gets her going, maybe it's how powerful she feels - like a queen on her throne but she loves this position and keeps you between her thighs until their numb. Amélie's favorites definitely connect to the fact that she loves feeling in control. When she rides your strap in reverse cowgirl style, she'll have you cuffed to the headboard so all you do is watch. Just imagine how good her ass looks, bouncing up and down on your 8 inch strap that's stuffed deep inside her pussy. Amélie loves hearing your moans and groans from the visual, and on occasion she'll degrade you - mocking how such a shy girl's so filthy.
G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc)
Listen, it's already hard to get her to laugh normally so getting her to be a little silly during intercourse is not happening. Maybe during your first time together, when you're nerves are amped to the max - she'll let loose and giggle once or twice but you're not really getting more than that.
H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc)
Amélie's a woman of class. She may be blue but that never stopped her from looking her best. Amélie's European. Her hair is thick. The carpets most definitely match the drapes so you're dealing with a thick head of hair and pubes. Her hair grows extremely fast but she tries to keep it relatively short. The length varies but Amélie keeps it in a controlled triangle.
I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)
Intimacy pairs with the aftercare - it depends on the night and how Amélie's feeling. The intimacy usually increases when she's been feeling desolate. Especially if you have sex near the date of Gerard's death or if Moira had been experimenting on her again. During these times she'll let her walls down and put you in control. Amélie won't say much, just burying her head into your shoulder while your hands gently unravel her woes.
J = Jack off (Masturbation headcanon)
Like I said earlier, Amélie's well acquainted with her fingers because of the dry sex life she had in her previous relationship. But with you? Oh honey, you're gonna be dragged into closets, spare rooms; pushed against basically any surface to soothe her sex drive. Why would she waste her energy fucking herself when she has you?
K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)
Exhibitionism, BDSM, Temperature play, Bondage,
L = Location (Favorite places to do the do)
Probably her bedroom in the castle since it makes you feel the most comfortable. It literally has anything you could possibly want. The bed is huge and has the headboard that she loves cuffing you to, the fireplace that sets the mood and countless surfaces for you two to have fun on (and the chest of toys hidden away under her bed). Amélie's bedroom just feels romantic with all the accents of purples, maroons, silks and furs.
M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going)
Your shy nature is one of the biggest motivators for Amélie. She loves seeing you squirm and shake whenever she touches you. Hell, even just her stare can have you flushing. And she eats it up. Amélie loves unraveling you like a little present, caught in her web - picking at your shy facade until you break. Pushing you to your limits until your crying and begging for her. Turning you into her little slut's the biggest turn on for her.
N = No (Something they wouldn't do, turn offs)
Amélie refuses to have sex/intercourse in certain areas of the castle because they remind her too much of her past and Gerard. Places like her old practice room and Gerard's study are closed off to never be touched again.
O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc)
Prefers receiving 100%. Amélie loves your tongue more than any toy in her stash, she could literally ride and grind against it for hours. But, that doesn't mean she can't give head. Babe if she wants to eat you out she's gonna do a damn good job. Amélie's tongue is slow and precise, the excruciating pace slowly driving you to the brink of madness. Like I said before, she doesn't really like the taste of cum so getting head from her is a luxury.
P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual?)
Very slow and sensual. Amélie loves drawing out everything so she can really soak up the reactions from you. It's just so adorable seeing the effect she has on you. If you get a little bratty or bold then she'll get rougher but never faster. No, if anything she gets slower. Edging you at an incredibly slow pace that you can't help but to beg for mercy.
Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc)
Amélie prefers taking her time but thoroughly enjoys a good quickie here and there simply because of how shy you get when she pulls you into a small closet or corner to have a little fun. She does it pretty often, especially when the risk factor's particularly high. During quickies, Amélie's faster than usual - usually taking the reins and pinning you to the wall with her hand over your mouth.
R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc)
Amélie's always open to finding new ways to make you squirm. She loves the thrill and high she gets from taking you in public - knowing that someone could walk in at any moment just to see how much of a dirty girl you really are. (She always makes sure to take a precaution - aka her poison - so no one can actually see you but the idea is still thrilling. And if someone does walk in, she'll just knock them over the back of their head in the blink of an eye.)
S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last)
Have you seen this girl run up multiple staircases without even breathing a little harder? Amélie's stamina is almost scarily high. She can go round after round, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you or herself. Be prepared because she loves overstimulating you. But at the same time, she's gonna make you her personal chair for well over four orgasms.
T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves)
Amélie prefers using her toys on you. When it comes to her own pleasure, she'll choose your tongue any day. Favorites of hers: Bluetooth connected vibrator, regular hitachi wand, and her favorite strap.
U = Unfair (How much they like to tease)
Amélie's so unfair it hurts. She'll tie you up and edge you for hours as punishment over minor offenses, she just wants to find any excuse to edge you. And with the bluetooth vibrator..? You're fucked. During date nights, Amélie will force you to wear the vibrator in your panties and she'll play with it on her phone throughout the night. She just adores the blush on your face and the way you bite into your plump lip to try and keep quiet.
V = Volume (How loud are they, what sounds do they make)
She's pretty quiet in and out of the bedroom. Amélie pretty much just lets out sighs and grunts, when she's about to cum she'll moan quietly.
W = Wildcard (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)
Secretly likes anal. Amélie discovered this early on as a teen but didn't bother telling Gerard since he was very vanilla. She won't initiate anal play unless you do it first. Amélie wants to mainly receive it but she would kill to see you with a pretty butt plug that has a gem atop it.
X = X-Ray (Let's see what's going on in those pants)
Amélie's inner folds are longer than her outer ones, sticking out past them. Her clit's pretty small and she has an overall deep purple color.
Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive)
Her sex drive's pretty high, after being sex-deprived and touch starved for so long - it made her drive increase a decent amount. But you are dating one of the top agents of talon so you only have so much free time with her. This means you guys have sex maybe two or three times a week.
Z = Zzz (How quickly they fall asleep afterwards)
Depending on the day, Amélie can feel a lot of things after such intimacy. She frequently waits until you're asleep so she can have a smoke on her balcony. When she comes back she'll just look at you until she starts to fall asleep, admiring your face and maybe even whispering small praises in french. This is when she feels the most comfortable being vulnerable, oftentimes you'll be just awake enough to catch her whispering "Je t'aime"
