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Jack held back a groan when his commlink buzzed to life in his ear for the fifth time that hour, Winston’s graveling voice filling his head and destroying what little patience he had left. “Are you sure you don’t see anything?” the gorilla asked, “Because my intel says-”
“I know what your intel says,” Jack growled, shouldering his gun before he gave in to the urge to punch something. “And I told you, if I see anything suspicious, I’ll tell you.” The museum was as silent as the grave, the only signs of life being the flickering of display case lights and the far-off bustle of the Numbani streets that never seemed to quiet, even this late at night. Winston grumbled in his ear, but Jack just rolled his eyes. “Let me do my damn job, Winston. I can handle some thief, if they ever show.”
“It’s not just a thief, Jack,” Winston chided, and Jack glared at the ceiling, about to lose it completely. “It’s Talon, and-”
“And I should know better than anyone how serious a threat they are, I know. Do you ever stop lecturing?” he interrupted, giving up the idea of waiting Winston out and settling on making his rounds with the overgrown monkey griping in his ear. “You sent me because I can handle some piddly Talon operatives, so why don’t you sit yourself down and give me enough room to breathe without you buzzing in my ear every four minutes wanting an update?”
There was a beat of silence and Jack could tell just from the way Winston sighed, so put upon and world weary, that he wasn’t going to get his way. “Jack, protocol states that all solo missions be monitored in case reinforcements are required.” The clacking of his fingers along the keyboards rattled like the rat-tat-tat of machine gun fire, setting Jack’s nerves on edge. “Besides, some company now and again is good for you. You know what Angela says about socializing.”
“I socialize plenty,” Jack gave, making his way down some brightly lit stairway to enter out onto the main museum floor. The Doomfist gauntlet was still where it had been hours before, glimmering in the light of the touch-receptive case. What a waste of a night this had been. “How long do I need to hang around here anyway?” he asked, cutting off Winston’s long-winded lecture on proper social habits. “If the thief hasn’t showed up and its nearly four a.m., they probably aren’t going to show at all.” It wouldn’t be out of the question to assume that they could have heard tell that Overwatch had an agent lingering around and decided not to go through with the heist at all.
Wouldn’t that be convenient, Jack thought, rolling his shoulders tiredly. The cape furled and brushed the back of his knees, tickling him a bit. It’d be good to get back to the bunks so he could spend his night of not-sleeping laying down instead of standing up. He tuned back in to Winston about halfway through his response, not a shred of guilt to be found for ignoring him.
“-and just because you haven’t heard anything yet doesn’t mean nothing will happen. They could be waiting to lure you into a false sense of security, or who knows, Jack, they might already be inside the building. They could be watching you right now and you wouldn’t even know it because you’re not taking this seriously at all!”
“What makes you think I’m not taking this seriously?” he asked, a bit miffed. He didn’t want to be here but it sure as hell didn’t mean he wasn’t on guard.
Winston laughed and Jack could practically hear his eyes roll. “Look at what you’re wearing and tell me that you’re taking this seriously. Do you even have body armor on?”
Jack frowned and looked down at his outfit, taking in the bright red, white, and blue of his popped collar and jumpsuit. “What’s wrong with my outfit?” he asked defensively, cradling his gun in his hands at the ready. “This is hardly a stealth mission and I’d think showing some color would endear me to the public. It is Unity Day, isn’t it?” he huffed, looking back towards the stairs and the shadows that resided further above, along the balcony walk that served as the horizontal division between the first and second floors. The gauntlet was obviously safe, so it wouldn’t hurt to go back up again.
Or, he thought that up until he noticed the small, red sight mark dancing along the star over his heart.
“Sniper,” he mouthed, and Winston made a curious noise.
“What did you just say? Did you just call me a griper?”
Jack didn’t have time to correct him. He barely had time to throw himself to the side as a volley of bullets rained down on him from above, the shadows hiding everything from him. Damnit, he thought, pain riding up his shoulder from the impact of the fall. He couldn’t spare a moment to ache or think, Winston’s incessant demands for a status update bleeding into the white noise of his mind as he surrendered to instinct.
If this sniper wanted to play, he’d play, alright.
“Let’s dance,” he shouted, letting loose a spray of his own, firing off into the direction he sensed the shots had originated from. They rang like bells off the metal of the roof, no doubt peppering the walls with bullet holes that the museum would harangue Overwatch about come morning. A sniper shot whizzed past his cheek, taking a chunk out of his collar in return, like a kiss blown from above. It made him smirk even as he dodged, and Jack sprinted away from the gauntlet and towards the stairs to take them on even ground.
He didn’t make it far before another volley riddled the stone at his feet, narrowing nipping at his heels. Jack gritted his teeth and swore, darting behind another artifact case. The bullets pinged and tinkled to the floor, stopped by the plasma-light cases. Jack wished viciously that he was as sturdy, glancing carefully around the corner of the case to check his visuals. The shadows above were just as dark as they had been, hiding anything and everything from him. They weren’t going to make this easy on him, that was for sure.
The museum wasn’t the worst place he’d ever found himself pinned down, but it certainly wasn’t the best either. The cases provided plenty of sporadic cover, and the fact that it only held the one staircase was both a strength and a weakness, the latter hamstringing him more than helping. Damn Numbani and their architecture. If he could just cross the floor and get to the stairs, he’d have enough cover to make it to the second floor and hopefully engage the sniper in close quarters.
“Jack!” Winston bellowed in his ear, his voice finally cutting through the haze of battle to pierce his eardrum. “Jack, status report! Do you need help?!”
With a grimace, Jack thumbed his earpiece, taking another glance around the case to see if he could sense any movement from above. It’d be horrible if they took the initiative to make it downstairs first, or, heaven help him, lay a trap in the stairs. “I’m fine,” he grunted softly, shifting into a crouch. “Target engaged, will report when target is eliminated.”
“So they did show,” Winston murmured, the clacking of his keyboard near deafening in the grave silence of the museum. “Who is it? Can you tell?”
A bullet whizzed past, taking another chunk out of his collar. Jack swore until the air was blue and pulled his head back behind the case. “Sniper, now shut up and let me work,” he bit. He didn’t wait for a reply before letting loose another wild spray of fire along the entirety of the balcony. Metal screeched and railings fell to the floor below, and Jack was sprinting before the noises faded, eyes locked on the stairs and stairs alone.
When he reached the safety of the staircase without gaining a few new metal accessories, or even hearing gunshots, Jack bared his teeth in a grin and charged on ahead, taking the stairs three at a time with his rifle at the ready. Did the sniper know what they were getting into? He couldn’t imagine anyone proving a match for him in close combat, especially some cocky little sniper used to hiding behind a scope. He’d finish this quick and report back to Winston. He was more than ready for his bed.
He cleared the stairs and kept his gun up, trained for any sign of movement. The balcony before him was empty and dark, the silence only broken by the occasional crunch of glass under his boots. It made for poor cover, but he took solace in the fact that the sniper would be just as affected by it as he.
Where were they? He hadn’t imagined the figure and he sure as hell hadn’t imagined the gunshots. Jack made for the exhibits further back, where the lights of the display cases glowed gently and where the only accessible cover was located. A sniper wouldn’t hang around in the open, waiting for him to climb the stairs. They’d get themselves to the best defensible location and then wait for him to approach, hunting him like an animal wandering into a trap.
Jack had to smile at that. What a surprised they’d get when he got his hands on them. He turned a corner, gun at the ready, eyes catching only the faintest glimmer of red across the room before the tense silence erupted into a cacophonous warzone. “What the hell-” he got out, but only barely, the bullets narrowly missing him as he dove behind the nearest display case, this one on the key to the city that symbolized the unity between humans and omnics.
What was that light he saw? He could’ve sworn it was at head level, so was it a scope or a head set? Regardless, he found himself huddled up behind another piece of history while some sniper with the upper hand pinned him down like a cat toying with a mouse. Jack sighed and wondered if it’d just be easier to call in back up. One glance down at his cape, though, told him that no, he’d deal with this himself.
A clever one, weren’t they? Jack whistled, looking at the perfect ring of bullet holes torn through his cape. Clever, quick, and with a sense of humor to boot. He couldn’t say he saw that very often. Jack heard the telltale sound of combat heels against the tile floor and knew he wouldn’t be able to breeze his way through what followed. No time for back up either. With his hand tight on his gun, he carefully turned and vaulted over the display stand, prepared to take a bullet or two so long as it meant he got the element of surprise on his side.
His battle cry lasted all of two seconds before the sniper hit him in the throat with a well-placed forearm. Jack went down, choking and hacking, too stunned to hold onto the gun as it was kicked out of his hands and across the room. Winston’s voice was a concerned maelstrom in his ear, too panicked to leave him be but not so worried just yet that he needed reinforcements. Jack dragged himself up onto his elbows, noticing first the bright red dot aimed right on his heart.
“What an invigorating dance, no?” a decidedly feminine, and decidedly French, voice called, drawing his attention up to the one holding the gun. “You are rather tenacious for an Overwatch dog.”
The second he saw her, he knew he wouldn’t be calling in for backup. She stood tall and lithe like a lioness, hefting her heavy rifle with an ease born of years of intimate companionship. Jack’s eyes went wide and felt a rush of heat run down his spine. What thoughts he’d had of tactical evasion and regrouping flew from his mind in an instant, replaced only with the rhythm of her walk and the graceful sway of her hips. Even her bluish skin was enticing, glowing gently under the light of the museum’s displays.
The custom visor on her head clued him in on who it was he was dealing with. Glowing red and faceted like a spider’s eyes, the reports of Talon’s roster came rushing back to him in a wave, stats and assassination histories reading behind his eyes like a scrolling document. This was Widowmaker, of that there was no doubt, but Jack was pretty sure he’d die happy so long as the last thing he saw was her face. Her record was impressive and she’d more than proved her skill level, but he had to think some of it must have come from her victims flocking to her web like flies.
It’d make dying on his back a little bit more bearable, at any rate, though he had no plans to die any time soon. Not when there might be a better way out of this situation, so long as he played his cards right. He shifted himself into a low crouch, as good as he could get with her sight trained on him unerringly.
“I didn’t know they made snipers this beautiful,” he admitted, thumbing off the commlink and Winston’s howling before grinning up at the sexy, curvy woman with every ounce of charm he had to his name. “I gotta tell you, it’s a welcome change from what I’m used to seeing.”
The puzzlement showed on her lovely face as she furrowed her brow and cocked her head, her long pony tail swinging behind her back like a pendulum. He could only imagine how good it’d feel coiled around his hand. “What sort operative are you, to flirt in a situation like this?” she asked, her voice cool and melodic and everything he liked in a woman. Her gun didn’t lower an inch, but he didn’t even sweat, too busy taking in the wonderful view this position afforded him.
“A step above the rest?” he offered, kicking the barrel of her rifle away faster than she could combat. With a sharp tug to her ankle and a quick maneuver, he had his arm around her throat and her gun tossed to the floor at their feet, dangling her an inch off the ground while she clawed at his forearm. God, she even smelled good, like French perfume and gun oil. “Don’t be afraid now, missy. You’re just another sniper in between me and my objective, but that don’t mean we can’t have a little fun before I disappear with the gauntlet all safe and sound, locked up away from your cute little grasp.”
Her breath hitched, her grip on his arm going tight. He nuzzled her neck and let out a husky breath in her ear, savoring the way she shivered. “That is,” he amended, “if you’re interested in being a little sidetracked.”
“You are…” she murmured, taking a shaky little breath once he set her back on her feet, his arm loosening until it served as more of a promise than an active threat. “You are not like any I’ve met on a job.”
“Honey,” Jack chuckled, dark and low, “I’ll be like nothin’ you’ve ever dreamed of.”
He knew he didn’t imagine her little breathy keen, not with her this close. She relaxed against his chest, her long, sensual body molding to his front like a perfect puzzle piece fitting home. “You are a cad,” she sighed, looking up at him with dark, lust-blown eyes. “But I suppose I can spare a few moments to play before I put a hole through that abominable mustache of yours.”
“Baby, you have no idea what this mustache can do for you,” he laughed, giving in to the siren’s call of her graceful neck to begin kissing a line up it, nibbling on her ear until she melted into his arms.
“That is an awful line,” she managed, her voice hitching ever-so slightly. “Do you always use such terrible lines?”
“Only when the sniper I’m dealing with looks as good as you,” he chuckled. “Can’t imagine how good you’d look on my lap. Are you as good with your hands as you are with that sniper of yours?” A blush lay heavy on her cheeks, her eyes wide. “Come on, baby, give me a taste.”
“Wouldn’t you like to know?” she replied, but she still turned her head demurely, bringing her full, glossy lips close enough to kiss. “Are you as garish a lover as you are a dresser?”
Instead of answering, he gave her a kiss, putting into it as much passion and lust as he could manage. Her eyes went wide for a moment before falling shut, as if she’d been surprised at the skill. Jack grinned into the kiss and sent it deeper, tangling their tongues in a dance he felt only worthy of the French. She tasted as sweet as she looked, her lips soft and mouth warm. What a treat on a night like this, he thought, suddenly so grateful to be put on this mission.
“What do you think?” he asked, breaking the kiss just far enough to speak against her gasping lips.
“I think you are an utter beast,” she replied, going easily when he began to tug her towards a nearby bench. “I think that I would be better served just killing you right now, and finishing my mission in peace.”
Jack clicked his tongue and stroked a hand through her long, sleek hair. “Now that seems like a good way to waste an evening,” he chuckled, sitting himself down with a rakish grin. God, she was so gorgeous. All long legs and tempting cleavage, that suit sticking to her like a second skin. He brought his lips to her stomach, kissing her through the thick suit as she carded her hands through his hair. “Why don’t you see how you like me before you go through with killing me?”
Before she could retort, he fixed his hands around her hips and tugged her forward, bringing her into his lap. She weighed nothing at all and it made it easy to move her wherever he wanted, and she hardly seemed to resist it. “You’re…you’re so forward,” she managed, her embarrassment showing.
“And you’re wearing too many clothes,” Jack replied smoothly, raising a brow. “You’d look so sexy stripping for me,” he posed, grin turning wolfish. “I bet you can move like a song, if the way you fight is anything to go off of.”
Her eyes went wide and she shook her head, trying as hard as she could to look like she was above something so base. It made Jack smile, because he knew ways to make her want to bend to his every whim.
“Oh, come on baby girl, why don’t you give me a little show?” he crooned, running his hands up and down her sides, resting them on her wide hips to give her generous ass a squeeze. “You got so much to show off here, and it’d be a shame to let it go to waste. Don’t you want to show off for me? Just wiggle in my lap and let me see how sexy you can be.”
Her affronted gasp nearly overshadowed the blush on her cheeks. “Absolutely not,” she said with an embarrassed tone, crossing her arms petulantly. “You dirty old man, I will not.”
“Old?” he huffed, bucking her a little so she could feel the hard line of his dick under her. “Baby, I may be old but I sure as hell can give you a ride you won’t forget,” he said, fixing his teeth to her earlobe as he reached up to cup her breast in his hand. She gave a pretty gasp, so he squeezed, massaging it while he rolled his thumb over her nipple. “Come on, babe. Show me how sexy you can be.”
Her eyes were closed in pleasure, her hands falling to Jack’s chest as she bit her lip. “This is embarrassing,” she whispered, looking at him only when he took her by the chin and brought her back forward.
He clicked his tongue and stroked her cheek, giving her breast another squeeze to make her keen. “There’s nothing to be embarrassed about with a body like this,” he told her, rolling his hips up so she could feel how excited he was already. “I wanna taste every inch of you, but you gotta give me a little first before I make you sing.”
He could see the exact moment she gave in, and she shrugged off his hands to unclip the latches on her gauntlets. “This is embarrassing,” she repeated, though her voice held an air of determination about it. One gauntlet hit the ground, and then the other followed. She reached for the neck of her suit, looking up at him through her long lashes as she began to tug it down her shoulders. “Sit back then,” she said softly, revealing more of that pretty blue skin.
How could he just sit back when there was so much to touch? He contented himself with stroking along her thighs, reaching back a little to squeeze her ass. She seemed to glow in the low light of the displays, and he hummed the refrain to Careless Whisper, encouraging her to make it a real strip tease. She rolled her eyes but gave her body a sway, and Jack swore the room got five degrees hotter the moment she tugged her suit down enough to bare her breasts to the open air.
“Oh, baby, just look at you,” he praised, giving up on her hips to touch the perfect mounds. Jack met her eyes and grinned, pinching a dusky blue nipple until she let out a cute little cry. “Is there anything about you that isn’t made to make a man lose his mind?”
“That’s-” she tried, but he knew what she was going to say.
“I want to fuck you so hard,” he said, watching her embarrassment rise until her cheeks were stained purple. “I want to see you writhing on my cock, screaming my name. You’ve got such nice tits, baby, I wanna see you touch yourself as I fill you up until you cum.”
For a moment, he expected her to fumble and front, to call him a pervert and cover herself back up. To his utter glee though, she let out a muted moan, a shiver trembling down her back. Her nipples hardened before his very eyes, and when he bounced her on his knee, she rutted against his thigh, a teasing dampness bleeding through his trousers.
“Did you like that?” he asked, helping her along so she could tug her arms free from her suit to wrap around his neck. “Do you like it when I talk dirty to you? Of course you do, I can feel how wet you are already.” Jack’s head spun with the thought of her dripping and wet inside her suit, the thought of her peeling herself out of it and of it dripping down her thighs, just begging to be tasted. His dick ached in his pants, and Jack ached to burying himself in her folds.
And god, just looking at her made it hard to hold back. She was perched on his knees as pretty as could be, biting her full lip and waiting for him to tell her what to do. Her breasts heaved and she leaned into his hand, encouraging him to touch and fondle, to make good on the promises he’d given her. “Keep going,” he told her, kissing her neck just for a moment, to make her keen. “I haven’t had my fill of you just yet.”
With a small whine, she turned in his lap, showing him her beautiful back before she leaned against his chest. “Touch me,” she breathed, lifting herself up just enough to slip the bottom portion of her suit down. She kicked and kicked, somehow making it look graceful, until her suit was coiled around her ankles, held in place only by her tactical boots.
Jack couldn’t move at first, struck just by the sheer amount of leg now open to him. She brought her arms behind her head, wrapping them around her neck to plaster them together. “God, what kind of good did I do to have all of this in my lap?” he muttered, giving her what she wanted. He took a breast in one hand and let the other trail down, teasing the dampness between her legs until she was moaning in his ear. “I wanna hear you, baby girl. Every sound you make, so don’t even think of holding back.”
She didn’t disappoint, letting loose a moan that belonged in pornography more than it did in the real world. Jack groaned and fixed his teeth to her neck, dipping his fingers inside her to make her do it again. “You’re so soft inside,” he praised, loving her voice singing so prettily in his ear. “So soft and warm, and you’re just holding onto me so tight too. Bet you’d feel so good wrapped around my cock, wouldn’t you? You’d just invite me in deeper and deeper until you cum, like a good little slut.”
“Please, please!” she begged, spreading her long, long legs as wide as she could in hopes of getting more. Her body moved in time to the rhythm of her moans, and Jack grew dizzy with the force of his arousal. He crooked his fingers and heard her moan again, needing to hear just how loud he could make her scream.
“Up, up,” he coaxed, retracting his fingers to her utter disapproval. “Now, don’t go making that sound, baby girl. I’ll make you feel so good in just a second.” Jack’s mind spun with the possibilities. How would he have her? As small as she was, it’d be easy to pin her against the wall and take her like that, or he could do something a bit more romantic and lay her down, just so he could look into her dark eyes as he took her to pieces. He stood with her and bought himself a moment with a kiss, running his hands all over her bare skin as she purred into his mouth.
Regardless of what he did, he was wearing far too many clothes right now, and that just wouldn’t do.
Peeling her away from his chest, he went for the cape first, soothing her with wet, filthy kisses as he slipped it from his shoulders. He broke the kiss and looked into her pleasure-drunk eyes, the shiny gloss of her lips looking downright lewd in the glow of the display lights. What he wouldn’t give to see those lips wrapped around his cock. She’d take it like a professional, deep throating him like she craved the taste of his cum.
Next time, he told himself. If there were ever a next time, he’d make damn sure he got to see those fantasies become reality.
“After you, my sweet sniper,” he offered, laying down his cape like a blanket over the stone. “I’d hate to make this anything but a treat for you.” He could already imagine leaving this place with the garment wrapped around his shoulders, carrying her scent like a reminder of all he was about to taste. Jack throbbed in his too-tight trousers at the thought. Hole-filled as it was, he swore he’d never throw this thing out so long as it reminded him of this moment.
“What a gentleman,” her breathless voice murmured, and she raised a perfect brow at him, even as she crawled atop the burning red, the color gorgeous against the color of her skin. Perfect white teeth worried at her bottom lip, a flush sitting high along her cheek bones. Jack couldn’t stop staring at her ass, and he knew he’d regret it if he didn’t give himself ample time to take it in before he was forced to cut this romantic entanglement short. Knowing Winston, he’d have reinforcements en route before round two could even begin.
It was due to this thought that Jack seized her firmly by the hips before she could turn onto her back. He leaned over her and put his lips to her ear, letting her feel his excitement and the rumble of his voice in his chest. “I think I’d like to keep you on your knees a little bit longer, baby,” he told her, grinding against her with his covered cock.
“It’s Amelie,” she shot, giving him a look.
“You want me to call you by your name?” he grinned, kissing her cheek. “I’m Jack, baby, so you can scream that all you want.”
“You’re insufferable,” Amelie sighed, but she spread her legs excitedly, showing off her flushed pussy, as perfect as the rest of her and more than ready to be filled. Jack brought his fingers back to it, letting the blinding heat suck him back inside to finger her while he went for his belt.
“And you,” he said, hitting the spot inside her that made her gasp, “are entirely too sexy for your own good. All this pretty blue skin of yours makes you look like an angel, but I know you’re anything but good. You going to take me to heaven, baby? I want to fuck you blind.”
The dirty talk had the exact same reaction it had before, her breath hitching and body tightening with eagerness. Amelie looked over her shoulder when Jack pulled down his zipper, her eyes darkening as he pulled his hard cock free of its confines. “You know how to use that, yes?” she asked, licking her full lips hungrily.
“I’ll show you how it’s done,” he drawled, giving himself a few pumps to really draw her eye.
Jack made a move to line himself up, only for Amelie to pull away, shaking her head. “In my suit,” she said, gesturing at the crumpled purple fabric. “Bring it here.”
He did as she asked and his grin grew when she pulled out a condom from one of her hidden pockets. “You carry these on you?” he asked, tearing open the wrapper with a laugh. “I knew you were a slut. What a little vixen I’ve found. God, you’re too sexy.” The condom was even lubed, one of those fancy ribbed for her pleasure types. Jack shook his head and hissed a little as he put it on, taking in how she stayed silent, hiding her face in the red cape she held clenched between her hands.
She wasn’t paying attention to him at all. Jack grinned and lined up behind her, thrusting inside without a single word, surprising her enough that she let out a cry and threw back her head. Jack barely heard it though, the tight, blissfully hot pressure of her folds around him so much better than he thought it’d be. The condoms may be for her pleasure, but all he could feel was soft, hot flesh, the wet folds of her inner walls hugging him beautifully.
“Oh, Amelie,” he groaned, closing his eyes to savor it even though she was writhing, begging for movement. “How is a little slut like you so tight? Do you like me inside you? Do you want me to fuck you like the slut you are?”
Amelie wasn’t eager to answer him, so he took her by the hips and moved, thrusting hard enough to jostle her forward, for the cape to wrinkle and shift beneath her, but not enough to give her what she wanted. “Oh, god,” she moaned, turning her face to the side to breathe heavily.
“Told you, my name’s Jack,” he laughed, doing it again to make her shiver. “You gotta answer me if you want it, baby. I want to hear you say you want my big, fat, cock fucking your greedy little pussy.”
“I…I want it,” she said to the floor, bowing her head. “Please, Jack, let me have it. Let me have you cock.” Her voice trembled but she wriggled her ass, searching for more contact, if he’d only give it. “I want it so much,” Amelie said, her voice breaking on a moan.
Jack let out a breath through his teeth. “You sound so good saying my name, just like I thought,” he laughed, thrusting forward to give her what she asked for. Her sounds pitched higher, her spine arched, and Amelie cried out beautifully in little startled gasps that went straight to Jack’s cock.
He couldn’t help but laugh when he thought of what he was wearing, of the idea of bagging himself a solid ten when dressed like a maverick. “Aren’t you just the best thing that’s ever happened to me on a solo mission?” he chuckled, bringing a hand beneath her to rub at her clit. Her body spasmed and she rutted against his hand, biting her fist to keep herself from cumming.
“I don’t usually do this,” she managed to say, flushed a pretty purple from her cheeks down to her breasts.
“Of course, you don’t,” he chuckled, collecting her slick on his fingers to lick. Even he didn’t carry condoms on himself when on the clock, but good God, if all female snipers tasted this good, he’d make it a habit to start. She was sweet and musky, the flavor bursting across his tongue. It made him want to lick into her properly, just to drink it all up. Amelie didn’t notice what he was doing behind her back until he moaned, making a show of licking his fingers clean when she glanced over her shoulder.
Jack smiled at her rakishly, going back for seconds with a swipe of his hand. “You even taste good, baby girl. There isn’t a box you don’t check off. I wanna lick you inside and out until you feel as dirty as you look.” Her eyes were glued to him when he showed her how he’d do it, licking along his fingers and between the digits in a facsimile of what he’d do between her legs.
Amelie gave a muted cry, her eyes wide but unseeing. “Please,” she begged, rolling her hips back to fuck herself on his cock. “Please, I want you to. I want that so bad, Jack.”
“You want my tongue?” he asked, leaning over her to kiss the taste into her mouth. “You want my tongue licking into your pussy and eating you until you cum into my mouth?”
Her knuckles were white against the red of the cape. “I want it!” she cried, pinpricks of tears collecting in the corners of her eyes.
“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dragging like gravel. “I want to hear you say it.”
She bit her lip for a moment, but it did little to stop the words from pouring out of her. “I want you to lick into me,” she pleaded, her voice high and needy when he fucked into her harder as a reward. “I want you to make me cum in your mouth.”
Jack smirked. “That’s what I like to hear,” he said, just as he turned the pace up a notch, his hips moving like pistons to fuck her into the floor. Ameli’s moans fell like rain, light and refreshing in the cool air of the museum. Jack reached for her pony tail and gave in to the urge to wrap it around his hand, yanking her head back as he fucked into her. It made the perfect rein and she handled it beautifully, tossing her head back to bare her throat for him. “What a good girl you are,” he praised, a bit breathless himself. He gave her ass a smack, just to hear her cry out again. “Do you like being my little slut?”
“Yes! Yes!” she cried, clenching around him, her slick dripping down her thighs and collecting on the floor. “More, please, give me more!”
“Take it, baby, you’re doing so well,” he said, yanking her head back even harder, bowing her back like a bow until she came up onto her knees, plastered to his chest as he laid into her as hard as he could. Every thrust bought him another tiny mewl, punching the breath from her lungs until she had nothing left to give. Jack looked into her wild eyes, kissing her again. She tasted even better in the throes of passion, and he couldn’t believe his luck at finding such a gorgeous woman in such a dull place.
The air filled with the sound of their coupling, adding a layer of filth to the moment that made it all the hotter. Jack stared down Amelie’s body, taking in her heaving breasts and arched back, the way her thighs trembled when he thrust inside her. “I love how you take me,” he groaned, making sure it was right in her ear. “Do you love having my thick, fat cock inside you? Your pussy is so wet and warm, how are you not always on your knees?”
Amelie gave a small whine, one that morphed into a throaty moan when Jack stuttered in his rough rhythm, grinding against her with short, forceful pumps. “I love it,” she gasped, looking at him with tears in her eyes. “I love it so much. You’re so huge, I love it.”
“Damn straight you do,” Jack huffed, dragging her back down onto her hands and knees with a rough pushed. It gave him more leverage to drive into her, forcing her head and chest to the cape below. “I’m going to fuck you so hard you can’t walk. It’ll take you weeks to forget the feeling of my dick in you, and you’ll crave then, won’t you?” With her back bowed and fingers clenched in his cape, she looked like something straight from a fantasy. “If you ask me nicely, maybe I’ll promise to fuck you again.”
“My god,” she cried. “I’m so close. Please, Jack,” she begged, snatching at Jack’s hand to bring it to her breast, moving it for him when he didn’t immediately fondle her. It was just about the sexiest thing he’d ever seen, and he moved his hand, tweaking and rubbing at her nipple until she threw back her head to moan wantonly to the sky.
“Cum for me,” he growled, fucking her until she began to skid across the cape, her knees red and bruised. Jack could feel is own end rapidly approaching, and he was determined to watch her fall to pieces first, if only so the sight could be the thing to push him over. He bit his lip and held back, driving into her harder and faster, until she couldn’t even form the words to tell him she was finished.
“Jack!” she nearly sobbed, barely catching herself on her arms as she tightened around him, her wet cum staining Jack’s pants where they were still rucked up around his thighs. Jack grunted like an animal, the scent of her sweat and arousal driving him over the edge. One, two, three thrusts was all it took to have him spilling inside her.
“Oh, baby girl, that was so much better than letting you kill me,” he groaned, leaning over her to catch his breath. Amelie was still on her knees, shivering with her afterglow, and she gave a little whine that told him to pull out before she got too sensitive. He did so with a bit of a grunt, pulling off the used condom and tying it off. What was he supposed to do with it now? The museum had trash cans situated around the museum, but he couldn’t imagine it being a good idea to put it where someone might find it.
When Amelie didn’t make any motion to move out of her slump, Jack gently took her by the shoulder and turned her onto her back. He nearly choked on his breath when he caught sight of her lovely face, her cheeks still flushed and eyes dark with satisfaction. Skin glistening and thighs spread, she looked better than anyone had a right to after being fucked halfway through the floor.
“You alright?” he asked quietly, stroking a lock of her hair from her eyes.
“More than alright,” she purred, her lips curling into a gorgeous smile. Jack smiled back, leaning down to kiss her again. Saying fuck it, he threw the condom off into the gallery, figuring it right to be someone else’s problem. Amelie wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss, running her calve along Jack’s thigh like an invitation for more.
“If you’re looking for another round,” Jack said in between kisses, “you’ll have to give me a few minutes.”
Amelie pouted but let him go, falling back against the cape like a goddess upon a shrine. “It’s not polite to keep a woman waiting,” she teased, closing her eyes as she stretched.
“Keep looking like that and it won’t be a long one, baby girl,” he huffed. On a whim, he flicked on the commlink as he tucked himself back into his trousers, only to hear a phrase that killed what remained of his afterglow.
“-PROCEED WITH CAUTION AND GET IN THERE!” came Winston’s harried shout, a chorus of affirmatives following soon after. Jack let out a startled grunt and nearly cut himself with how fast he yanked up the zipper, Amelie looking up at him with hazy, curious eyes.
“What is it?” she asked, right as the air filled with the sound of breaking glass and the bellow on Reinhardt’s battle cry. Her mouth went slack and Jack didn’t even think. He grabbed her up in his arms, cape and all, and hefted her over his shoulder, snatching up her discarded suit as he raced towards the administrative section of the museum.
“Let me go!” she hissed, clutching at him with nails that bit in retaliation for the indignity.
“You wanna get caught by them as naked as a jay bird?” he shot back, low and furtive. He didn’t have keys or access to this section of the museum, so he made due by kicking down the door to what looked like the curator’s office. Already he could hear Winston’s voice playing double in his ear, from the communicator and from further down on the first floor. Amelie paled and stopped complaining, grabbing the suit from him the second he deposited her on the floor.
“You forgot our weapons, you idiot,” she hissed, stepping into the body suit. Jack couldn’t help but watch her zip it up, hiding away the few marks he’d been able to leave on her skin. “They will know something is amiss.”
Jack rolled his eyes when she glared, catching him staring. As if he hadn’t seen it all already. “It was either the rifles or you, princess, and there’s still time for me to change my mind.” Reinhardt’s booming voice carried through the door easily, enough that he could tell that they were focusing their search on the ground floor first. Someone had to secure the Doomfist Gauntlet, he figured, before some thief made off with it.
“That was my favorite gun,” she complained, crossing her arms. Her glare was too cute on her face to be severe. It looked more like a pout, and with her pursed lips and flushed cheeks, all it made Jack want to do was fuck her again. “You don’t care because you obviously can’t even shoot your own, but for those who are good at what they do, a good gun is as vital as an organ.”
He’d give her an organ, Jack thought, shushing her as he thumbed at the commlink, unmuting it. If he could manage to call off that cavalry, maybe he’d get his chance for a second round. Or, at the very least, keep the museum standing. Knowing Winston and his band of merry men, more than a couple exhibits would meet a grisly end in their search.
He opened his mouth to speak, but Amelie grabbed at his arm, giving him a nervous look. “Why would you call them?” she mouthed, her brow furrowed. “Are you going to turn me in?”
She really was so adorable. He couldn’t wait to see what she looked like with his cock in her mouth. “Don’t worry, baby girl,” he whispered, picking up the chatter on the radio of the others searching. “I’d never let anyone but me take you down.”
“How romantic,” she said, rolling her eyes. Jack smiled at her and held his finger to his lips, shushing her. It’d be better to misdirect them if they couldn’t be called off, or, he thought, at the very least, he could get them to slow down so long as they knew he wasn’t hanging from the rafters with his throat slit.
“You really brought in the entire team, didn’t you?” Jack sighed into the communicator, hearing the unmistakable sound of what had to be McCree goading Genji into unleashing his dragon. “Overkill, Winston. Overkill.”
Winston was nearly rabid, shouting into the communicator the moment he heard Jack’s voice. “Where are you!?” he snarled, no doubt searching the museum with a fervor that could turn to fury the second he saw an enemy. “Jack, where is the sniper!?”
Wincing at the volume, Jack rolled his eyes and took in Amelie posed against the wall, her eyes narrowed towards the door, every lithe muscle in her body ready to move if someone were to enter. If he looked closely, he could just make out the slick wetness between her legs, darkening the purple of her suit in a way that would be unmistakable to any who paused to look. Jack listened to Winston shouting in his ear and weighed the choices before him.
“I’ve got eyes on her,” he said, and Amelie looked to him, expression betrayed. “And I’m handling it. Why don’t you go eat some peanut butter and let me work? I’ve got this.” As he spoke, he moved towards Amelie, rakish grin on his face and his hand already taking the commlink out of his ear.
“Jack! Don’t you dare go dark-” Winston yelled, just before Jack threw the communicator into the trashcan near the door.
“What was that for?” the sniper asked, and Jack had to smile, because she bared her throat a bit, her voice low and breathy. The cape on the floor looked lonely without her laid out on top of it, and that just wouldn’t do.
“The night’s still young, so why not finish our little fight?” Jack asked, pinning her to the wall, his hand falling to her warm breast. “I think they could stand to look around a little longer. That is, so long as you stay quiet.”
“You’re an absolute scoundrel,” she breathed, biting her lips as Jack tugged down the zipper of her suit.
“Well,” he chuckled, hearing the sound of panicked agents searching the halls outside. “At least I know you’re into it.”