#talon assistant reader

I sorta took some liberties with this request but they're all somewhat Christmas themed!! Sorry I'm so late, I hope you likey :)

CW: NSFW

*ೃ༄  Mauga's been looking for you all day. You've been swept off your feet, trying to get past the hustle and bustle of the public to get everyone's Christmas gifts. So caught up that you're starting to get stressed, and well, he can't have that.

When you make it back, there's a box sat neatly next to your bobbleheads. Which you have to quickly cram back shut when you open it, to save the eyes of the poor new recruit who'd come up to your desk. You scowl to yourself once he passes, but your expression softens when you find that the early Xmas gift is actually rather sweet.

A new nightdress. Silky, smooth and in your favourite colour. Whoever left it knew you well, and you decide to wear it to bed later that night after your dinner outing with Mauga.

...Who takes great joy in flipping it up to watch himself disappear into your pussy. Your hands cinched behind your back with his belt as he takes your stress away himself. Growling into your ear about how he just knew the dress would look so good on you, making you choke on a gasp as you realise it was him all along.

*ೃ༄ Moira follows a slew of sticky notes to her lab. It's a rather silly thing, some cheesy, romantic lyrics to a Christmas song that she'd never heard of before. She collects all of them until she comes across the final one, posted in the centre of a Christmas wreathe she did not hang up. When she enters, she pockets all of the neatly folded notes and hangs her lab coat on the door.

"I believe you were behind all of this melodrama?" Moira muses, locking the door with apt attention before turning to finally face you.

"How did you know?" You giggle breathily, languidly lifting your legs to show her the pure evidence of your arousal, slick dripping down your inner thighs and onto her workbench. You'd clearly been awaiting her presence, and who was she to keep you waiting?

*ೃ༄ You were supposed to meet Siebren for tea earlier that day. But it was well past noon, and you'd yet to show up. A bit of a worry wart, Sigma makes his way immediately to your room, as perhaps maybe you were just feeling a bit under the weather and forgot to alert him

Only, you don't exactly hear him coming because of his ability to float. And you also coincidentally forgot to lock your door, his sudden entry making you shriek and go careening off the side of your bed.

Luckily, you don't quite hit the floor.

Siebren floats you closer, so close that your noses are almost touching. He unwinds his hands from where they were clasped behind his back, reaching out to gently feel the lacy fabric hugging your skin. "Is this...for me?"

His expression darkens considerably when you nod, bashful and timid, feeling ever so vulnerable while he has you weightless in the air.

"You should have said so." He murmurs, thumbing your chin lovingly before you're lowered gently to the floor knees first, the straining tent in his slacks radiating warmth onto your cheek. "Your tea has gone cold."

*ೃ༄ Amelie notices that some of her and Gerard's old Christmas decorations are missing. It wasn't too much of a concern, considering she was the one who'd gifted you the box in the first place. She herself had no use for the items, and it was well worth it if it brought you so much joy. Only, she counted a few items missing once you'd told her that you had already strung up all the lights and tinsel. She quickly forgets about it once her day progresses, sent on a particularly nasty mission by Akande, she comes back to her mansion with only one thing on her mind. You.

And boy, do you deliver.

She almost doesn't notice you at first, sat beside the extravagant tree, hidden amidst all the presents like a special little gift addressed to her, and her only. Amelie eyes you for a hot minute, a smirk curling her lips when she realises that beneath the Christmas lights you'd trussed yourself up in, you were also wearing the lingerie set she'd bought you a while back.

And as she let her own clothes pool to the ground, she considered letting you open one of your presents a bit early. Something nice and big that she can wear and watch you stretch yourself open on.

*ೃ༄ Gabriel knows what you're up to. It doesn't stop him from reaping the benefits, though. Reaper finds great joy in skulking around corners, waiting like a snake in the grass for his time to strike. Whether it be to scare you silly, or to snatch you up for the hour and fuck you dumb. He always has to give you a little something to keep you on your toes around him - as he can't let you get too comfortable. So when you start checking around corners and narrowing your eyes at shadowy spots in the hall as if he might be there staring back at you, he knows somethings up.

When he does find you, it's to his absolute delight. You, naked as the day you were born, silky red fabric keeping your arms tied tight behind you, glimmering under lamplight like blood on skin as you squirm against the sheets on his bed. Gabriel can't help but growl out his desire, his claws trailing your skin and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He takes your invitation with inherent greed and nothing near gratitude, fucking as many loads as he can physically muster into your glistening cunt, his hips moving shallowly until you beg him for a moment of reprieve.

Only, rather than freeing you after he had his fun, he decides to leave you there with a pat on your ass and nothing to cover yourself but the bruises on your skin.

Asshole.

*ೃ༄ You know that Olivia's been keeping tabs on you, so you fully intend to surprise her. She's got a keen habit of hacking into Talon's security cameras, just to make sure you're doing okay. Luckily, you've memorised all of the blind spots of said cameras. It's great in a pinch if you're trying to surprise her, or make her jealous. Either works. Unfortunately, Sombra presumes its the latter, and is quick to plant a nanny cam in your bedroom to get her own back.

She makes her way to your room while you're mid setup, grinning at you from the door like a Cheshire cat as you struggle with the sparkly purple tinsel adorning your body. Olivia's certainly charmed by your efforts, and makes sure to take a good few pictures for safekeeping before she pounces on you.

*ೃ༄  Akande has banned Christmas decorations around the workplace. You attempt to change his mind about it. Which, in all retrospect, isn't actually that hard. For such a man, he seems to find it rather hard to say no to little old you.

Which is exactly why the age old trick of bending yourself over his desk works a charm. Sure, the dark red ribbon wrapping your thighs helps. And sure, the little frilly bell collar sways him to your whim a small bit too.

But what really does it? What really gets him to give in?

The noise of said bell. Chiming noisily as it slaps against your skin, ringing aloud among all of your moans as he ruts into your cunt from behind, grinding you into the ornate, carved mahogany of his desk as he pumps another creamy load into your overfilled pussy.

im so deprived of him no one writes for him anymore!!

* ˚ ✦ Talon assistant reader who gets kidnapped on a routine coffee run, but her captor doesn't exactly make it very far.

You hold yourself confidently whilst outside of Talon's grasp. Head held high with a polite smile on your face as you make your way through the familiar streets, your teams favourite coffee shop in view right at the very end as you wade past the bustling public.

It makes you feel normal, as silly as it sounds. When you're out fetching coffee you're just another face in the crowd, just another soul trying to get by. Everyone around you doesn't spare you a second glance, and you love it. Absolutely nobody privy to your double life as an assistant to a giant organisation. You were just...you.

Sure, its a bit of a struggle to get back to base holding so much coffee and sweet treats, but its all part of the fun. Especially when it's on Akande's card.

Only this time around things feel...off. The barista keeps glancing over your shoulder and kissing his teeth, his eyes dark and grey when they came back to meet yours, his smile not quite reaching his eyes all the way.

He must be new, because your usual was nowhere to be seen.

You pay for the drinks and gather them all in your arms, heels clicking against hardwood awkwardly as you try to elbow the door open, the melodical chime of the bell above signalling your departure. You're quick to lose your suspicion on your way back, something that Amelie would certainly scold you for should she know about what happened next.

You're struggling with a stray Danish pastry when a heavy hand claps onto your shoulder, a chin grazing your neck as your assailant comes in close to whisper into your ear.

"Take your next left," He speaks, eerily calm for someone who's pointing a gun into your lower back, "Don't make a fuss, now."

Corralled into a smelly alleyway, you're forced to drop the drinks and pastries while your attacker disposes of his apron, stuffing it behind a bin and pointing his gun at you like a proud cat who got the cream. You, on the other hand, weren't exactly in high spirits.

You'd seen plenty of guns, knives and other niceties during your time at Talon. Hell, you'd even seen whatever a biotic grasp was. Only you'd never been on the receiving end of a barrel, and you don't ever want to be again.

"Oh, I'll get a handsome sum for you." He breathes, dollar signs practically dancing in his eyes, "There'd been talk about a Talon secretary. Running around with all of Akande's money in her pocket. I wonder how much he'll pay me to get you back, huh?"

Behind him, you see a wisp of smoke.

Just a small, tiny little slither. Curling in on itself and disappearing into nothingness. Something about it screams familiar territory, and you can't bare to focus on anything else.

Your attacker isn't pleased by your ignorance. Scowling, he leans in close to tap the tip of his gun against your temple, only, when you close your eyes, you never hear the click of the safety being turned off.

What you do hear, is the crumpling of a body onto the cold concrete floor below, and a familiar delighted grumble. A noise you'd only ever heard at the expense of someone else.

"Idiot." Reaper hums, raking his claws down your side gently, tickling your skin until he pulls you in by the waist, "He's been following you for yards."

You lean into him, letting Gabriel hold your weight as he inclines his head to look down at you. You stare into the dark eyeholes of his mask as if it were the face of a saviour, knowing full well a man like him was the polar opposite. "So have you."

He responds with a gravelly, contemplative hum, pulling at the band of your underwear through your skirt until he hears the elastic snap free. His claws reaching past the defenceless fabric to find his prize, warm, wet, waiting. You shudder at the vibrations of his laughter, the evil noise shaking his chest as black smoke trails off of it.

Moira more often than not lets you eat your lunch in her lab provided that none of it comes in contact with her projects. She was hyper focused - her perfectly manicured nails holding still a tawny brown ball of fur, adorned with a baby pink button nose that sniffled the air hesitantly. You’d practically squealed when she raised a needle to the poor thing, and she quirked a brow when you hurried over to clutch the animal to your chest.

Moira appeared unimpressed with you. Her angular chin upturned as she peered down at you, baby talking the rabbit she had planned to test on. You looked up at her with eyes big and watery enough to rival the little creatures, and she sighed dramatically. The geneticist had a feeling that wrangling the critter out of your arms wouldn’t be so easy now that you’d seen what plans she had for it.

So that is how Lucky came to be. Despite Moira’s cold disposition, she enjoyed your company, and would like you to continue body doubling with her whilst she worked. The only way not to send you fleeing from her lab in tears, clutching the rabbit to your chest, was to keep it around. It has its own little space laden with toys and plush surfaces - a rather spoiled little animal.

Moira allowed the rabbit to stay, under the one condition that she name it. She’ll never tell you why, but she named the little guy Lucky because not only was he ‘lucky’ to avoid her experiments that day - he also gives you more excuses to come into her lab - and she feels ever so lucky for it.

Sombra finds unique methods to get your attention. She lurks around the base almost as well as Gabe does, but she’s not necessarily doing it to be broody. She can get greedy with your attention, so she finds ways to lure you off base so that she can have you all to herself for a little bit.

Sombra often hacks into Akande’s email to send you on faux errand runs, just for little things like coffee where she can swoop in for some quality time. And don’t worry, she pays for the dates and ensures you’re back on base by the time your break is finished.

Sombra also leaves little gifts where she thinks you might find them. Although, they’re never really that little. You’re always taken aback by new, expensive top-range electronics laden in purple ribbon on your desk. You know who leaves them, because they’re backed up with the best firewalls around and the display has a tiny purple skull on it.

Sometimes she just straight deposits thousands into your account. As a treat. Sombra only rolls her eyes when you try to decline the amount, flustered and telling her that it’s ’way too much’ but she honestly couldn’t care less. She’s perfectly able to spoil you and that’s exactly what she’ll do.

Reaper likes to play off that he doesn’t enjoy your company (he’s coping) but he’s also always skulking wherever you’ve been. You’re a bit of a yapper, especially when it’s early mornings in the Talon communal area, so he likes to sit and listen to you. If you stagger whilst talking because you think he isn’t listening, he’ll give you a stare so hard that you swear you can feel it through his mask. So you keep talking and his shoulders sag with contentment once more. (He now knows every single type of coffee you like, and you should expect a mysterious package of literally all of them in the kitchen next week.)

He’s a grump, and sulked for an entire week when you once changed your perfume. Reaper even went to lengths to shadow-step into your room to throw the new one out and replace it with a fresh bottle of your old one. It wasn’t cheap, but as long as you keep using it, he’s happy to buy them for you.

He’s also happy to scare off any of the overconfident Talon grunts who think you’re easy pickings. In fact, I’d say he takes great pleasure in showing those idiots who the pretty secretary belongs to. (He’s been doing this behind your back because he’s too edgy and emo to approach you directly and would rather trail you in the corridors like some sort of creep, but he means well.)

Reaper gets a little jealous over your attention from time to time, but with help from his unorthodox teammates (and you) he learns to share.

Amelie is slower to approach, but she’s all the more meaningful when she does. She may not be able to feel, but she more than just tolerates your company. She finds herself inviting you over for bottles of wine more often, showing you her manor and her dear guard hounds who’ve come to be much too gentle under your affections. Yet, she can’t find it in herself to blame you.

You show her simplicity in a blank and cold world - and soon enough her manor grows less full of cobwebs and vines, instead beaming with sunlight and the tiny succulents you’d gifted her with. You won’t replace Gerard, but Amelie still lets you dust off the weathered picture frames as if you’d been married together in this old house for years.

You help manage her hair, winding long and silky strands between your fingers, brushing against the elegant slope of her back. She welcomes your touch, despite the warm and cold contrast of your skin on hers.

Amelie craves the casual and domestic intimacy you provide her. She introduces you to self defence and gun wielding so you can take care of yourself without her, and you introduce her to reality tv and an absurd collection of coffee mugs. She would not take it any other way.

Sigma’s musings start small when he hears you humming a certain tune one day. It’s catchy, likely a pop song you’d heard on the radio whilst on your way to work, or maybe it was a song you’d been blasting in your bedroom the night before? He’d found himself picking up on it, unable to shake it until he’s humming it himself.

Eventually when you sit down with him for tea, he questions you about it, yet when you tell him the name of the song and he listens to it, he doesn’t necessarily feel the same pull.

The next week, when you’re passing by his lab in a hurry, heels clacking against the glossy wooden floor and papers flying in a trail behind you, he catches you humming another song. Another tune. He smiles softly to himself, picking up the documents you’d left behind.

Sigma realises then that the song wasn’t necessarily catchy enough to stick with him. He’d only picked them up because they reminded him of you.

Mauga is always excited to have you around. Sometimes he can be a bit much, but with two hearts he’s bound to have twice your energy. So that’s why he absolutely insists that you sit on his back whilst he does pushups. No matter what you weigh he’s not gonna break a sweat, so you might as-well relax on his back while he works out, instead of wasting precious quality time you could have together.

He’d suggested that you sit on other things too, but you’d smacked his bicep hard enough that the muscle rippled and he got the message to behave. You were still sore from the last time he said that.

Mauga also is a big cuddler, meaning, if you’re doing something he doesn’t deem as important, you’re being quite literally swept off your feet and dumped onto a soft surface like a wet kitten. Where he then hauls you onto his chest and squishes your face into his bicep, unfortunately for you, two hearts means he runs WARM. And you’re out like a light in less than 10. Smug bastard.

Big dude loves to show you off, too. Takes you back to some of his old haunts (pays for all of your drinks) and puts a song he knows you like on the jukebox. Sure, the night ends in a bar fight, a back-alley fuck and the worst take out you’ve had in your life, but would you have it any other way? Absolutely-fuckin-not.

And finally, the big boss of them all, Akande. Who’s satisfied with the knowledge that each of his subordinates treat you well and good, but knows he holds the ultimate claim. He holds the golden chain of your leash.

He treats you softly, like a well pampered pet all trussed up in the finest materials around. But it’s not always money with him. Sure, Akande has it, and he’s gonna flaunt it, maybe stuff a few bills in your panties when you least expect it but he also knows you’re not just a pretty face. Both he and his top agents have become adjusted to you in their lives, morale is high, people have improved.

You’re here to stay, and it’s only locked into place when he awakes one morning, your legs are tangled underneath satin sheets, and you’re drooling on his bare chest. He laughs - a deep rumble that shakes his chest and has you groaning at him to stop moving in a sweet, sleep addled mumble. You even give him a little kick under the covers.

Akande knows how to sweeten a deal.

He’s negotiated and bartered with so many powerful men that swaying them comes to be like second nature for him, but this time it’s a little different. This is no man and there’s no greedy human nature Akande can target. There is no weakness.

Your heels clack against the glossy mahogany flooring as you patter beside him, clutching important notices and valuable documents close to your chest like they might fly away. And you’re tittering away with a casualness that he’d let no another agent of his get away with, but Akande isn’t the only one listening.

Ramattra tilted his head with something that could only be described as curiosity. Such a small thing, you were. Surrounded by dangerous killers and meticulous assassins that would exploit your every weakness should you let down your guard, yet you led him through the halls with all the grace and confidence of a pampered feline pet.

Nothing you were saying was of any importance to the omnic, but he couldn’t tear his gaze away, intently listening to every word that fell from your soft, pouty lips. You were valuable to Akande somehow, special in a way that had Ramattra craving a personal insight.

“My assistant will help you get settled in.”

Akande smiles at him, both knowing and smug as he offers him a key to what Ramattra assumes is the room he’ll be staying in. It is then when the omnic realises he’s been caught staring, but Akande only seems all too pleased.

He’d found his bartering chip, squeezed into an all too tight skirt and a low cut blouse.

—

It’s when you take him to the hilt that Ramattra finally decides on his answer.

Such a soft, sweet little thing you are. Panting into the air as he splays a hand onto your lower back, digging his metal fingers into the fat of your hips to drag you down further. Humans, so malleable, so weak, so soft. Your cunt flutters around the silicone of his cock, sucking him impossibly deeper despite the already snug fit.

“Ambitious, aren’t you?” Ramattra snarls, shifting his hips forward to bump the fat tip of his cock deeper, to bully himself into the softest parts of you. You’re whimpering into the satin sheets like a bitch in heat and it urges him to break you, to cup the soft pudge of your tummy and force himself as deep as he could ever possibly go.

Ramattra had little need for pleasures of the flesh, but there was something all too gratifying about watching you urge yourself on something much too big for you to take. For someone so insignificant, Ramattra was all too tempted to indulge in you, after all, you’d all but been handed over to him on a silver platter.

“Please..” You whine, your begging quickly silenced by a powerful pump of his hips, the cables attached to his head falling past his shoulders in disheveled waves. He wants to tear into your softness. Bury himself inside you and never come back out. He’d give Akande all of the resources he could want just for a few extra minutes between your plush thighs.

He all but cackles, the noise deep and synthetic as he watches your cunt flutter greedily around him. Ramattra pins you down by the back of your neck, revelling in your heat as it bleeds into his hands, warming the metal when he thumbs your nape in a soothing manner.

cw: free use contract, afab assistant reader, slight pred/play, he a little mean in this one 😛

Moira is definitely slower to approach the whole ordeal in general - much like Amelie. She’s very much consumed within her work to even think about your presence. Akande introduces you with small tasks - picking up documents from Moira’s lab or sending you to check up on her progress rather than himself. It’s a slow start, but steadily Moira becomes accustomed to your presence.

At first she’s tolerant. Much like how she is with everyone else - she’s happy to make you squirm with empty promises of experimentation or wave you off with a cold disposition. But your presence while she works steadily becomes more frequent - and even whilst her attention is monopolised Moira finds herself responding in kind to your innocent and curious questions. You know next to nothing about her projects or her work in general, yet she’s patient and thorough in her explanations.

Eventually she becomes more intrigued with you to the point where she starts preparing for your visits, because she knows you like to loiter a little longer then you should when Akande sends you. Your body doubling sometimes actually expedites her work on occasion - so it never really bothers him that much.

Moira has eyes like a hawk, and if you’re swept off your feet with annoying requests from the Talon grunts who think they can pester you into doing menial tasks for them, she’s quick to draw a chair out for you and bundle some snacks and drinks into your lap. You playfully tell her she’s warming up to you. She insists it’s nonsense and that you can’t do your job properly if you pass out.

But she never eats the snacks tucked away, nor does she take a drink from the mini fridge for herself. Why would she? They’re for you.

And that’s exactly when she realises she’s been snared. But Moira isn’t upset at it - you’re of no hindrance to her work - so she allows herself to enjoy your company. (And technically shared ownership of a previous lab rabbit named Lucky. If you know, you know)

You don’t help yourself by consistently bringing her a coffee and a neatly decorated cake in the early mornings, dipping your pinkie finger into the cream to steal a taste right out from under her nose. You always drape yourself over her desk just right, nosying in her work while she’s nosying down your shirt.

You’re raising her sugar levels and her blood pressure all at once. And she’s absolutely convinced you’ll be the death of her.

OG Post

Mauga's Turn

Cute Moments

The Countryside

Two Sides

Softy 

Reaper's Heart 

Anger Management

Sugar Daddy-Esque Doomfist 

Moira's Persuasion

Shopping Spree 

Ramattra's Interest 

'Kidnapped'

(18+mdni) warning: i say the word clockwork too many times and also sex happens i guess