Athena

"Dim the lights a little bit, will you babe?"

Working at Overwatch HQ was a pain in the ass, but at least the amenities were nice. The AI they had running the joint was especially useful when she didn't want to get up from her desk chair.

And she had it programmed to respond to a variety of pet names.

"You've been sitting there for eighteen hours, Sombra." Athena practically sighed. "A certain amount of physical activity is—"

"Did I ask for sass?"

"You did not."

The lights dimmed.

"Thank you!" Sombra sang, kissing her computer screen when the Athena emblem showed up. "Now put your lips on me, baaaaabyyyyy."

"That's a monitor, Sombra. I don't have lips. We've been over this."

She spun her chair around, singing again. "Babyyyy...!"

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Junker Queen

Two guards held her in place, forcing her to kneel in supplication. This was it, the point of no return. She wanted to gather intel for Talon, to prove her loyalty. They needed to know about the elusive Junker Queen; who better to send than their most covert agent?

Except...

She tilted her head, grinning up at the woman.

Except she had been caught.

The Junker Queen reclined on her throne, chin resting on one fist. Her weapon lay across her lap, a mace studded with fingers and joints from a hundred murdered omnics. Sombra had heard the stories, but seeing the grisly trophy in person still sent a shiver down her spine.

"Tell me why you've snuck into my court, stranger."

Sweat pooled on her neck, dripping down her bare chest.

"Speak," the Queen said, giving permission and delivering a demand.

"I got lost on the way to the restroom," Sombra said.

CRACK.

Leather snapped over her back, joining a dozen other lashes that crisscrossed her exposed skin. Biting her lip, Sombra let herself tremble once, but not a single sound escaped her lips.

"I'll ask you again," the Queen said. "Tell me the truth and swear loyalty to me, and I may spare your life."

Sombra wasn't above begging for her life, but she still had a job to do. She didn't want to half-ass it. "I'm here for my own curiosity," she said, rolling her shoulders to try and assuage the sting. "Is that a crime?"

The Queen did not respond, instead studying her carefully. Something about her mettle must have impressed her.

But in the end, she did have to swear loyalty. Sombra shuffled forward on her knees, head bowed, half naked, and pressed a kiss to one of the monarch's many rings.

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Volskaya (EXTREMELY nsfw)

"Did you come?"

She leans over the woman's shoulder, hands trailing down her chest. Volskaya's breath hitches, barely audible over the hum of the vibrator. Sombra stands just behind her, unbuttoning her trousers to reach down and pull the toy free. The bullet hums in her fingers a while longer before she turns the dial down.

"Yes," Volskaya admits in a whisper.

"Such a nasty girl." Sombra lifts the toy to her mouth, licking it clean. "Do you think anybody knew, all day, while you were giving your meetings and..."

She grinds her hips against Volskaya's.

"...Running your company, that you had that inside your pants?"

Sombra had to admit, she didn't anticipate this turn of events. She'd been fully prepared to continue their little arrangement as puppet and master in the usual sense. But as things turned out, Volskaya was eager to take it up a notch.

"N-no..." She bites back a moan as Sombra replaces the toy with her fingers. Volskaya is incredibly wet, dripping wet, and just a few idle touches has Sombra slick to the knuckle. "Please. One more, please."

Turning her around, Sombra presses her up against her own desk. She laces both hands behind Volskaya's head, forcing her to lean down and kiss her. Volskaya's knees bend to accommodate the height difference, shaking from head to toe from exertion. Her tongue brushes against Sombra's lips, eagerly tasting herself on them, and then Sombra has her sitting on the edge of the polished, burnished wood as she sinks to her knees.

She pulls Volskaya's trousers down, burying her head between the woman's thighs until she screams.

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Brigitte

"Hey, lover."

Sombra walked two fingers over the woman's shoulders, watching in fascination how the muscles there shifted with every breath.

"When are you going to introduce me to your old man?"

Sombra didn't mean Torbjörn. There was only one old man Sombra refused to refer to by name.

There was too much at stake there, they both knew. Reinhardt was old school, loyal to a fault. He believed in Overwatch, devoted mind, body, and soul to them. Sombra was repulsed by him, as Brigitte knew he would be by her.

"Never," she said, then stood up to get dressed.

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Moira (nsfw ish)

All week long, a very specific craving held her in its grasp. Sombra gnawed on her fingernails, ran laps in the gym, and sparred furiously with Gabriel and Akande. She expected it to fade, but instead it grew stronger.

It was hard to get sweets on base. She thought by now she'd be used to it.

But Sombra always wanted what she couldn't have.

More and more often, she noticed Moira showing up to their meetings with a snack or a drink. Probably from a personal stash. Fascinated, Sombra watched the doctor work her way through her latest acquirement: an entire bag of white chocolate chips. As Akande's smooth voice laid out their next plans, she found herself glancing back at Moira with amusement.

She tracked her down afterwards, studying her carefully before making the attempt. "Hey, Moira!" Sombra tagged along just behind her, unable to hide a catlike grin. "I need something!"

Moira stopped long enough to let Sombra catch up to her in the hallway, then resumed her stride. "Go on."

It was worth a shot to ask her, she figured. The worst Moira could do was say no. "Do you have any cotton candy?" she asked, letting out a sigh filled with longing. "You know, the super fake one they sell in bags. Oh! Or animal crackers in white fudge?"

Moira's forehead crinkled. "Why do you need that?"

"For science." When that didn't net a reaction, Sombra huffed. "I'm craving it, boba."

The older woman grew suspicious. She didn't respond until they were back at her clinic, grumbling under her breath. "And what makes you think I have it?"

"Well? Do you?"

Moira met her eyes a while longer, squinting in displeasure. Then she motioned for Sombra to follow. "Step into my office."

Inside the clinic was a closed off section— more like a closet, really— for Moira to conduct her business. There was just enough room for a desk and a few filing cabinets. Moira held infamous disdain for paperwork and red tape of any kind, but was fond of transcribing her notes and thoughts down for Talon records. Often Sombra would find her in here, sleeves rolled up to her elbows and her hair askew, the gel no longer holding its shape as she mused over her documents.

With her hands deep in her lab coat's pockets, Moira kicked a steel locker next to her desk. It popped open with a clang, and resting inside... was the motherlode. More candy and sweets than any human could reasonably consume in a year, packed together next to gallons of soda and three bottles of whiskey.

"What time is it?" Moira wondered, rubbing her chin.

Sombra checked. "Five fifteen."

"Excellent." She took out two highballs and mixed some drinks for them. Half whiskey, half soda for Sombra, and straight whiskey for herself. "Cheers," she said, and drank the whole thing down like it was water.

"Damn." She took a few careful sips, trying not to cough after each one. It was like breathing fire. "You're kind of a wild bitch, aren't you?"

"I haven't the faintest idea of what you mean," Moira said, well into her second glass. She was showing signs of slowing down by the third, at least. "But I've been told I thrive in high-chaos environments, which rings somewhat of the truth."

"And explains why you're here."

Her long fingernails ran a shivering circle over the rim of her glass. "I'm here because of Gabriel."

Ah, Gabrielito. Truth be told, he was something like the glue that held this whole mess together. "Same. You like him or something?"

"He writes my paychecks." Moira cracked open a bag of animal crackers, letting them spill onto her desk. She gestured at them vaguely, plucking one out and munching on it with a distracted expression.

Sombra settled in for a long chat, intending to stay until the good doctor kicked her out. There wasn't much to learn about Moira, truth be told. She was an open book. But it never hurt to do research, and it looked like she had the hook-up when it came to disgusting, awful, unhealthy snacks. Sombra was also admittedly a little smitten after watching her knock back that first glass.

"All this sugar's bad for you, you know." She wanted to see how Moira would respond to a little good-natured ribbing. "Aren't you a doctor?"

"I don't care," Moira said around a mouthful of crackers. She swallowed, washing it down with another shot. "My interest lies in experimentation and discovery more than the actual mundane application of my ideas. Knowledge for knowledge's sake."

What a fucking mess, Sombra thought, somewhat in awe. "What do I owe you for this, by the way?" She nibbled on one of the crackers, savoring it. The craving hungered for more, but she took a bit of pleasure in denying it to herself now that it was right within reach.

"Nothing." Moira shrugged off her lab coat and rested it over the back of her chair. They sat side by side, perched on her desk in the cramped room. "A little company now and then is welcome."

"Aren't you a major introvert?"

Much to her relief, Moira cracked open a bottle of water. She set the whiskey back inside her locker before nudging it closed again with the toe of her dress shoe. "I don't find you draining."

"I'm flattered."

This was the most relaxed she'd ever seen the doctor, who always appeared tightly wound. Moira loosened her bright red tie, sighing in relief as she undid the top button of her shirt. "You should be."

Ego to spare was par for the course with Moira, but Sombra found it especially amusing when Moira said it with such a straight face and a rainbow sprinkle caught on her cheek. Leaning closer, she wiped it from Moira's face and licked it off her thumb. "What if we get called on a mission in ten minutes?"

Moira frowned. "Then I would go on the mission."

"Aren't you scared Gabi's gonna scold you for this?" she polished off her drink to demonstrate, wincing at the slow, steady burn.

She flexed the empty water bottle in her hands, nails crinkling straight through the plastic. "I like being in trouble," Moira said at last. She was frowning, but not from the idea of Gabriel's ire. She wiped her mouth clean with the back of her hand, checking for more sprinkles. "It's how I know I'm doing what others won't. Someone afraid of mistakes is someone with something to lose."

After months spent dancing around, speaking in riddles with Akande and Gabriel, Moira's terrifying bluntness was refreshing. Sombra couldn't keep herself from asking more and more questions, intrigued by the fact that Moira always seemed willing to give her a straight answer.

As someone accustomed to digging hard for the truth, it was a welcome change of pace.

"You like making mistakes, huh." With liquid courage bolstering her, Sombra scooted a little closer. She rested her palm on Moira's thigh, enjoying the way the other woman twitched in surprise. "Wanna go back to my room and make a few more?"

Moira's cool, blank expression never changed. But to Sombra's delight and shock, two spots of color appeared high on her pale cheeks. For a moment she looked like an overloaded omnic, contradicting code sending a million circuits aflame.

"Excuse you?" Moira said, voice chilly.

"What?" Sombra took the rest of the bag, holding it away from Moira so she couldn't hog them. "You're gay, right?"

Moira spoke carefully. "I'm a lesbian. But I'm... I'm, ah... I'm very busy," she finished lamely.

"I can see that." Sombra gave the whiskey glasses a pointed look. "Listen. You're my type, and I'm curious about how you fuck with those nails." She smirked when Moira immediately hid her hands behind her back, like they hadn't been in full view before. "No hard feelings if you say no."

"This could be a bad idea," Moira mused, more to herself than to Sombra.

"Oh," Sombra said, "It definitely is."

This side of Moira she was more familiar with. Stern and serious, always doing calculations. But now Sombra knew Moira leaned more towards calculated risks, for the thrill of it just as much as the chance to do something different. Sombra felt like she understood her a little better now after their short talk; who knew what she'd learn after fucking her?

Standing straighter, Moira moves to be in front of her, staring down at her with that same severe frown. Her pale eyebrows pinched together, a dark line creasing between them as her eyes darted down Sombra's body. The two spots of color never went away; if anything, they deepened into a full blush.

That's... kind of cute.

"Ah..." Moira said, running a hand through her red hair. Her mismatched eyes didn't seem to know where to land, but Sombra was pleased to note they kept dipping down to her chest. Setting her shoulders back, she arched her spine a little to give it more prominence. "...You're very pretty. So I'm curious why—"

She was getting impatient, but she knew when to push and when to wait. Taking the end of Moira's tie, she gave it a tug, and smiled when Moira stepped forward as if pulled by a leash. "I already told you why."

"I see."

Somehow, that settled it. Moira's shoulders went square, like she'd just received a mission, and she brought one clawed hand up to cup Sombra's face. The other rested on her shoulder, cautiously polite. So Sombra dragged it down to her breast instead and forced her to give it a squeeze.

The kiss was unbearably gentle, and unexpectedly sweet. In more ways than one. Moira's lips brushed over hers, a hint of sugar still on her tongue when Sombra eagerly opened up to her. Less curious now and more excited, Sombra pulled her jacket off and unzipped her body suit. Moira kissed down her neck, exploring each patch of skin as it was revealed to her.

"You're so hot," Sombra murmured, slipping the rest of Moira's tie loose before working on her shirt buttons. She was wearing a sports bra underneath. Running a thumb over the tight fabric, she smiled to find her nipples standing in response to the light touch.

Moira returned the favor, curiously toying with the silver loops pierced through her nipples. Sombra didn't bother hiding a groan when Moira pinched one between her fingers and tugged.

She raised one eyebrow. "Are you feigning that for my benefit?"

Sombra was rarely interested in being fair, or tit for tat. But Moira charmed her somewhat, so she gave her an honest answer in return for all she'd received. "I don't do anything just because it makes life easier for someone else."

Moira barked in laughter, throwing her head back. "That's in line with what Akande says about you."

They kissed again, messier than before. A warm breath on Sombra's stomach made her giggle, and Moira paused long enough to smile up at her. "You'll have to teach me what you like," she warned her, palms spreading out over Sombra's thighs to part them. "It's been a while since I—"

"Moira, you talk too fucking much." She rested a hand over Moira's head, coiling her fist in her hair to give it an experimental tug. To her satisfaction, Moira let out a choked noise of pleasure, eyes fluttering shut. "I'll tell you if you do something I don't like. Now get to work."

"Oh," Moira huffed breathlessly, cheeks suffused with warmth. "Oh, yes. Yes ma'am."

Sombra had a feeling this was going to be the start of a beautiful friendship.