Chapter 1 - Overwatch: Rise & Fall

Hey everyone! Just a quick update about the lack of content recently, I had to undergo surgery recently to remove a faulty organ and I'm pleased to say the operation was a complete success! I'm well on the road to recovery and today marks my return with the first publishing of a story both to HF and to my Patreon since my return. Loads of hugs to all my fans and friends and please do enjoy the story! Xx


*****


Three seconds. Three crucial seconds. It was a risk, she knew, to have an entire plan relying on such a small window of time, but a lot can happen in three seconds, the trick was making them unavoidable, creating a fixed path.


She would be here soon, Widowmaker had made sure that that, at the very least, was unavoidable by picking a target that couldn't be ignored close to where she knew she was, and this time she had planned ahead, really planned ahead. 


She knelt perfectly still in the late night light, a shadow in the darkness of the abandoned building that she alone occupied, invisible save for eight dim lights which formed the pattern of a spiders eyes across her mask.


Before you spring a trap you first have to lure in the prey, a truth Widowmaker knew all too well. And, while drawing them in, if you can make them believe they have the upper hand they’ll get confident, perhaps too confident. 


She scanned through the various still images on her visor as she peered out of the open window waiting for the telltale blue streak that she was waiting for so expectantly, nothing yet, but she could practically taste the little whippets' presence on the air. She was close, very close, the game was about to begin.


“You never really learn do you, love?” Came a saccharine voice, almost a whisper in her ear.


In the darkness Widowmaker allowed herself the smallest of smirks despite the surprise, some days it was just all too easy. She gasped audibly, seemingly startled as she dropped down while spinning, the placement of her feet precise as she pulled the trigger on her gun.


A flash of white from the muzzle intimately coupled with the smell of cordite and a deep thud as her gun released its payload, a clatter ringing out from a casing as it pinged off the corner of a wall, matched by the warped distinctive ‘zip’ of Tracers slipstream mingling in with the girls incessant giggling.


Widowmaker sprang up and away knowing that here, inside, Tracer had the advantage over her, even as her rifle reconfigured itself in a series of brief mechanical whirs from sniper to assault mode the peppy Brit’s twin pulse pistols were superior for this form of close quarters combat.


“Off in a hurry?” Came another girlish giggle as Widowmaker kicked elegantly off a wall, diving through a door and into the wide corridor of her chosen abandoned building which had just happened to overlook at a distance a particularly vital power site, enough of a target to warrant Tracers response when information of Widowmakers whereabouts had ‘leaked’.


A zip to her left and Widowmaker leapt, hearing the ratatat of the pulse pistols as they left a score of marks in the wall where she had just been. They were both by all accounts skilled marksman, but in many of their numerous encounters they typically each came away unscathed, both so manoeuvrable that it was near impossible to accurately train their sights on the other.


She just had to keep running, to make it to her objective, she’d danced this duet a hundred times, but today would be different, her objective wasn’t the power facility, it was Tracer herself, and only she knew that.


“You’ll never catch me putain!” Widowmaker goaded, highlighting the tone of her voice to add a faux edge of desperation, she needed Tracer to believe she was winning, after all.


“Oops, language!” Tracer giggled, the hallway lighting up in a flash of blue as another stream of shots zipped down, landing just a step behind Widowmaker as she sprinted away, her ducks and dives followed by her long ponytail, trailing her like a streamer.


Widowmaker was getting close and could feel the moment approaching, a branching path that either led to her victory or another day of disengaging and slinking back into the shadows.


In an apparent act of desperation she aimed her rifle back down the corridor with one hand as she ran, squeezing the trigger and lighting the place up in a hail of fully automatic blind fire, just a little further, she could see the window and the building opposite, the trap, laid and waiting. 


“You’ll have to do better than that!” Tracer mocked as she blinked forward, her pistols spinning as they replenished their seemingly unlimited ammunition.


Widowmaker subconsciously counted down the last rounds of fire in her clip, five, four, three, two, one, and despite a precise knowledge of her shots, clicked the empty rifle several times as if surprised to find herself running empty and, to Tracers stunned surprise, cast her rifle aside! The girl had hardly ever seen the dark assassin without her treasured weapon and a disarmed Widowmaker offered a unique chance, maybe this was the time she’d actually win, actually capture her!


Widowmaker leapt, an arm covering her face as a spray of Tracer's pulse pistols shattered the window before her, she came out and cast her gaze up, eyes focusing on a point far above her, her hand reaching out with precision, the slow, almost imperceptible beat of her heart making finding her target a breeze.


Tracer watched as with a burst of air Widowmakers grappling hook blasted out and up, catching her weight and beginning to swing her forward and up as it reeled her in, but, determined not to lose the opportunity, she blinked forward, feeling the world shift around her as she appeared out over the alley, her pulse pistols shifting back with a practiced flick of her wrists into her arm holsters as, arms outstretched, she grabbed ahold of Widowmakers legs.


Widowmaker let out a grunt as she felt the sudden weight, slowing her accent and sending them both careering through a window on the far building, shards of glass glistening and reflecting what pale moonlight there was. Un.


As they rolled and scrambled to their feet Widowmaker’s mind counted every second with precision, this was the critical phase. She was on her feet first, her history as a ballerina giving her poise and balance beyond that of Tracer when she was not in the process of blinking around. Deux.


Tracer looked over as she came to her feet, refocusing her gaze on Widowmaker through the yellowish glint of her goggles, disorientated she glimpsed a glint of steel, a flash. 


“Trois!” Widowmaker shouted as the blade left her hand.


“Ahh!” Tracer cried out as the knife pierced her jumpsuit, burying itself to the hilt in her chest, pain blossoming in her like a flower as she, on pure instinct alone, recalled.


The pain vanished as quickly as it had appeared, the world shifting around her as time flowed differently for her, sending her body back to precisely where it had been, exactly three seconds ago.


“Ah! No! Ahhh!” Tracer cried out as she found herself hovering once more over the alley, except this time without Widowmakers legs to grab a hold of. In a panic, she blinked this way and that as gravity took its unrelenting hold on her, trying to grab any sill or handhold on the opposing buildings, but her efforts only served to slow her inevitable fall to the ground below.


“Ugh!” She gasped, hitting the grimy floor of the alley with a heavy thud and a bad sounding crack from her chronal accelerator.


“Uuuhhh…” She groaned, slowly pushing herself up to her knees, feeling shaken and hurt, looking up and trying to focus on a suddenly prominent point of red flashing light.


The Venom mine detonated in her face, a cloud of pink gas engulfing Tracer, filling her lungs and, without the escape of her accelerators recall, either damaged or still cooling down, she had no out but to try and crawl out of the pink haze that swirled oppressively around her.


Widowmaker stood on the edge of the building's roof, a smirk on her features as she watched her fallen foe crawling from the expanding and dispersing pink cloud, different from its usual purple, but it was, after all, a unique formula, fit for its very unique purpose.


With a dry chuckle she began to lower herself down, in no rush as she stopped off to collect her Widows Kiss Rifle and waiting until the last of the pink smoke had drifted away before she allowed herself down the rest of the way, watching as the yellow jumpsuit-clad figure of Tracer, sat slumped against a wall, breathing hard and coughing.


“Ahh petite fille, how does it feel, to finally lose?” She said in a calm cadence, her faux panic gone now, replaced instead by a smug look, her usually stoic expression now a sly smirk that suited her beautiful, albeit altered features.


“W-what did you do to me!” Tracer coughed out, the fear and disorientation in her bright vibrant voice music to Widowmaker's ears. 


Widowmaker let out a dry chuckle, “I beat you.” She stepped slowly over to Tracer, squatting down and reaching out, using a gloved hand to raise the girl's chin even as she winced, forcing her to look into Widowmakers unnatural yellow eyes, “Now sleep, things will be different when you wake up… Fais de beaux rêves, ha, though I doubt it.”


“W-what? W-... Uhh..” Tracer whimpered slightly as Widowmaker released her head, letting it fall against her chest as sleep took its hold on her.


Tracer’s dreams were less than pleasant, confusion and pain, fear and terror, all mixed in with the persistent vision of, bizarrely, a flower slowly losing its petals and wilting away.


A few times she thought she had awoken, but the nightmare she awoke to those times had been too dark to be real. Movement, pain, music? Flowers?


Tracer let out a low moan and felt her body stretch out, her muscles aching and her head throbbing, though at the very least the pain seemed to be slowly melting away, her entire body comfortably spread out over a soft supportive mattress.


“I-I’m alive…” she whispered to herself amazed to have woken up at all, “Where… Where am I… Who's there?...” she asked, her eyes opening to narrow slits, the bright light of the room blinding, her vision blurred as she tried to pull herself from whatever deep sleep she had been in, seeing the vague outline of a person.


“Welcome home, mon amour.” Came a far too familiar voice, the rich French accent soft and unconcerned.


Tracer gasped at the effort of quickly pushing herself into a sitting position, wanting desperately to defend herself, to flee, to fight, but just not finding the energy in her tired body, stripped of weapons, armours and accelerators, to do more than sit up.


After the brief struggle that left her in an upright position, panting from the exertion, she spoke, her usually bright voice sounding worn out, “What… What did you do to me?”


“Nothing I won't regret. Tea?” Came the voice, oddly… Casual. 


Tracer raised a hand as her mind cleared itself of the fog of sleep, surprised to find that she wasn’t restrained in any way. She held the hand over her eyes, trying to rub the sleep from them as she crossed her legs underneath her, a thick duvet resting on her lap, warm from her own body.


“What’re… Ah… My head…” Tracer whimpered, raising both her hands to her head as she squeezed her eyes shut, the pain passing quicker now.


“Do not worry, that’ll pass. I know.” 


Tracer felt the mattress beneath her dip slightly to one side and she forced herself to open her eyes, seeing her more clearly now, Widowmaker, her foe and enemy sitting beside her, delicate eyebrows raised, a cup in one hand held out towards Tracer, the liquid inside dark and steaming.


“Widowmaker… You’re… Wearing a T-shirt?” Tracer asked, incredulous, not taking the cup, as if out of everything in this situation Widowmakers attire was the most baffling aspect to her, a T-shirt and what looked to be sweatpants.


Widowmaker scoffed and set the cup down on the nightstand beside the bed at Tracers arm, “What? You thought I wore that skin-tight suit everywhere I go? And my name is Amélie, you might as well use it.”


“Why?...” 


“Because that is who I am when I’m not in the suit, Lena,” Amélie said flatly, rising once again to her feet and stepping away towards the window, glancing out and around, the light reflecting on her amber eyes.


“No, I mean, why am I alive? Why aren’t you trying to kill me? Why are you…” Lena glanced down at the cup, her voice regaining a little more of its girlish vibe, “Making tea?”


Amélie let out a soft little sigh and leaned on the windowsill, silent for a moment as Lena observed the woman's slender profile. Their fights were always so incredibly fast paced with her chronal accelerator and Widowmakers ballet trained pace that she seldom got to view her without either of them moving at some speed. After a moment of staring at the svelte figure and before Amélie replied, Lena looked away, an almost imperceptible hue colouring her cheeks.


“Because, Lena, I was getting sick, sick of our little game.”


“What game?”


Amélie shot Lena a glance and raised an eyebrow again, her ponytail still intact as it wound down her back, “The endless game of cat and mouse that you and I play but neither of us ever seem to win.”


“Not for a lack of trying, love,” Lena said, matter of factly.


Amélie smirked slightly, “Mm, I do like it when you call me that…”


Lena felt the blush touch her cheeks a little warmer and she raised a hand, running it through her short dark hair, messing it back up into its rightful place, “Are you going to let me leave?”


Amélie pursed her lips, “Mm, technically.”


“What do you mean, ‘technically’?” Lena replied pouting her lips in growing frustration at ‘Amélie’s’ continued evasions.


“I don’t want all of your little friends swooping in to rescue you and wrecking my home.” Amélie glanced her eyes around the sparsely decorated room. She didn’t have much in the way of possessions, but the likes of Winston rampaging through here would do her walls, floors and ceilings little good.


Uncrossing her legs Lena swung them out of the bed, glancing down as she felt a plush carpet between her toes, seeing her bare smooth legs for the first time and noticing the t-shirt she herself was wearing, “Hey! You undressed me!”


“Mmhm,” Amélie mused dismissively then sat down on the bed, casting her eyes over at Lena as she peered back at her over one shoulder, “Lay down Lena, and I will explain.”


Lena eyed her stubbornly.


“Lay down, pétale.”


Lena felt a single shiver run up her spine and after a moment she scooched downwards, laying back down on the bed, albeit on top of the covers this time, one leg crossed over the other defensively.


“W-what, what was that! How did you make me do that!” Lena protested, her body fighting her as she tried to sit up again, but it was as if her muscles were no longer under her control.


“Shh pétale, let me explain,” Amélie said with a soft smugness, her hand, unnaturally cool to the touch, coming to rest on Lena’s slender pale thigh.


The girls' cheeks flushed red as she parted her lips to reply, but presented Amélie with silence.


“Good, in short, I used some of the… Methods… That were employed on me when Amélie first became the Widowmaker. Your mind is a little less your own, and a little more mine, mon amour.”


Lena swallowed hard as she stared, eyes wide like a doe caught in traffic up at Amélie’s off colour complexion. 


“Now, pétale,” Lena felt that same shiver travel down her spine again, “You will never hurt me or aim to shoot me, you will come home to me here every night, as my new petite amie, girlfriend. And you will speak of this to no one else. Do you understand? Speak.” She commanded.


“Y-yes,” Lena said without thinking and, satisfied, Amélie gave her thigh a soft eager squeeze.


“Any questions, mon amour?”


“W-why? Why would you do this?”


“Mm… My little Lena, I could say that it is because in our many little spats I have grown to admire your tenacity and strength, or perhaps even because I lust for you…” Amélie hesitated for a moment, enjoying the brief wide-eyed moment of surprise that played across Lena’s attractive features, “These things would not be lies. But no, why? Why because you are prey. And a prize. And I can think of no greater victory than this. To own you. To make you mine.”


Lena looked down slightly, uncertainty and fear once again in her chest, the lack of control she seemingly had over herself giving her pause. The dreams, the word pétale, petal. She had been conditioned somehow, like an animal.


“Who knows, perhaps you won’t find it so bad in time.”


“Not bloody likely…” Lena said, her soft voice edged with despair. 


Amélie let out a dry little chuckle and reached out, running her slender fingers through Lena's short brown hair, “Oh I think you will, I hope you will…” she whispered as she leaned in, “Though I suppose it does not matter if you ever truly do… But I have an order for you…”


Lena blinked up uncertainly at Amélie, their eyes locked, their lips mere inches apart as Amélie leaned over her.


“Kiss me. Like you mean it, pétale.”


Lena felt her breath escape in a flutter as Amélie leaned closer, closing her eyes. Lena followed suit, her eyes closing too as she felt the odd coolness of the woman's lips find her own, soft and oddly tentative as they shared their first kiss.


For Amélie, a true kiss was something slow, reserved and explorative, an experience to be savoured, slow and building to a crescendo of something infinitely passionate. For Lena however, it was something different and she had no choice but to obey the new imprinted wills of her lithe body.


Amélie let out a soft little moan as she felt her lips play slow and testingly against the comparatively intense warmth of Lena’s own, the girl’s hands moving to rest on Amélie’s waist through the thin fabric of her t-shirt, caressing the curves of her own slender body.


Her gentle moan heightened into a deeper one as she felt Lena’s hand wrap around her ponytail, lightly gripping her dark hair as her other hand pressed splayed-out against her back. The slender British girl beneath her shifted her weight as suddenly, and genuinely caught off guard, Amélie let out a gasp as she was rolled onto her back, her hands moving instinctively and defensively to Lena’s arms as if to throw her off, but as she did she felt Lena’s hands shift.


One of the girls hands, with her ponytail wrapped around the wrist, moved to cup the back of Amélie’s neck, raising her head up slightly towards Lena who now lay on top of her, one leg to her side and the other between Amélie’s thighs, the girls other hand, which had been on her back, instead came to rest on Amélie’s stomach, Lena’s fingertips inching up under the bottom of her shirt to caress against the soft cool skin of her abdomen.


Lena’s lips found Amélie’s again quickly and any semblance of a slow kiss was lost and forgotten, Amélie arched her back up against Lena as the girl’s tongue slipped eagerly between the French woman's lips, beginning an intense dance of lust and desire.


Despite the unexpected boldness of the kiss Amélie relaxed her grip on Lena’s arms, holding her gently as she responded in kind. Their kiss hot and passionate as she felt a warmth spread through her. Amélie had lusted for the bright sparky British girl since perhaps the first time she had laid eyes on her, but any fantasies she may have had were nothing compared to the experience.


The girl was so like and unlike herself, their figures not dissimilar, but their outlooks and attitudes so different. To begin with, Tracers vibrancy and happy-go-lucky nature had irritated her, but in time she had grown to, in a way, admire and even respect it. Despite the hardships Lena had faced, the disbanding of Overwatch, the loss of friends and, Amélie knew more recently, a breakup with her long-term girlfriend, Emily, she never once lost her smile, her laugh, or the bubbliness that made her stand out.


Amélie’s thoughts were disrupted by the sensation of warm fingers tracing up her skin, it seemed to Lena, to kiss like she meant it, meant an awful lot of physicality that Amélie hadn’t expected. As their lips parted briefly, their breath hot before rejoining the kiss, Amélie felt the hand caress higher until, at last, under the smooth fabric of her t-shirt the girls hand closed around and cupped Amélie’s full but modest breast, squeezing it as they made out, the girls knee pressing a little harder between her thighs, meeting more resistance than she had perhaps expected.


Though Amélie had conditioned Tracer, taming Lena into her own plaything, some things were still a bit of a mystery to her. In this instance, she had ordered Lena to kiss her but hadn’t specified for how long. She thought perhaps it would be based on what Lena thought was a good time for a ‘real kiss’ and as Lena’s knee pressed a little firmer between Amélie’s legs, her hand still massaging her breast, she felt the girl relax her grip and her hold, their lips parting as Lena leaned up slightly, perhaps confirming Amélie’s theory.


Amélie opened her eyes and looked up at Lena with her amber gaze, their faces still so close together, Lena’s expression unreadable, her eyes searching Amélie’s, for what she didn’t know.


As if the spell had been suddenly been broken Lena blushed and rolled off of Amélie, laying beside her and staring at the ceiling, her chest rising and falling, a hand resting over her own heart.


“Mm… That… That was worth the wait, my little pétale…” Amélie breathed softly, feeling oddly out of breath, “You’ll stay here with me today and tonight… Take your time in bed, then take a shower. You’ll feel better for it.”


Amélie leaned in towards Lena’s cheek, but Lena turned her head away, all quips and comments gone as she stared off at nothing. Amélie let out a dry little chuckle, “Mm, suit yourself.”


Lena kept her head turned away as she listened to Amélie rise and step from the room, her footsteps so quiet that Lena was only aware she was alone when she heard the click of the door.


She lay on her side facing away from where Amélie, Widowmaker had been, wrestling with the thoughts vying for control throughout her. Widowmaker, her enemy had defeated her, outsmarted her and taken something away from her she’d never even considered she could lose. While she knew her mind was not all her own anymore, somehow, she still knew that her thoughts were her own. She felt all the old thoughts and feelings for Widowmaker, the anger for her crimes, the pity for what had been done to her, but now they mingled with something different. 


Idly as she thought she found her fingertips playing with the T-shirt she was wearing, curiously she looked down, it wasn’t her own and without really thinking she raised the collar above her mouth, scrunching up the fabric slightly and holding it to her nose. Lena inhaled deeply and felt butterflies take flight in her stomach. It was hers, Amélie’s shirt. Amélie’s scent.


Lena closed her eyes for a moment and exhaled in a long shaky breath, her mind turning over the memory of the kiss, again and again, she had been ordered to do it, forced to, of that she had no doubt. But... Had she been ordered to enjoy it? 


“No…” Lena said softly to herself, voice quavering, confused and annoyed that she could be entertaining such thoughts, thoughts of Amélie, thoughts for Widowmaker. She squeezed her eyes shut. Amélie had been destroyed long ago, all that remained was the unfeeling, uncaring monster that was the cold-skinned brutal assassin snake, Widowmaker.


Angry with herself for thinking Widowmaker could be anything but that beast, she rolled over, arms folded across her stomach as she frowned and contemplated, with a momentary lapse in optimism, just how dire her situation was.


Lena blinked, her cloudy expression clearing in an instant, her eyes going wide, her lips parting just slightly as she took in the sight before her.


On the bedside table in front of her sat a single cup, the contents still steaming, waiting for her. Tentatively she sat up, glancing around suspiciously as she picked up the rather small ceramic item, clasping it in her hands, the familiar warmth giving her some level of comfort.


After giving it a tentative sniff and detecting nothing off, she lifted the cup and took a slow sip, then let out a long satisfied sigh. She bit her lip and looked at her own shaky reflection in the cup, “An unfeeling, uncaring, cold-skinned, brutal, assassin monster… Who makes tea...” She said gently, her own uncertainty clear in her voice.


After a moment she stood and moved to the window, leaning on the sill with her butt and clutching her cup while wearing Amélie’s T-shirt and a pair of plain black panties. Curiously she looked over a city she didn’t recognise, but which she assumed was somewhere in France. Part of her wanted to leap from the window, escape into the city, but every nerve ending in her body told her it was an impossibility. She had been ordered to stay, and stay she would. 


As she took another sip of the tea her thoughts strayed from the situation back to the kiss, recalling something she hadn’t, until now, really given thought to. When she had been atop of Amélie, her knee pressing between her thighs, she had felt something… Pretty distinct...


While Lena stood, resting on the sill, sipping her drink and turning over her own thoughts Amélie was sat at a breakfast bar, a cup of coffee at her elbow which rested on the countertop, her palm supporting her chin as her other hand lazily flicked a page on an old book, the sound of gentle classical music being interrupted eventually only by the recognisable sound of her shower starting up. For a moment Amélie glanced up and considered joining her new toy, but opted instead to give her some space.


After a while the shower cut out and Amélie listened as she heard Lena move around her home, hearing a closet door open then, shortly after, close again. It wasn’t long after that that when Amélie glanced up she saw Lena in the doorway to her living room kitchen combo.


“How was your shower?” Amélie asked gently, raising a single eyebrow. 


Lena glanced around briefly before stepping slowly towards her, one arm down by her side, the other gripping its elbow, a tentative look, “Er, it was nice, cheers.”


“And I see you found my clothes…” Amélie noted with a faint edge of amusement.


Lena looked down at herself, while she wore the same shirt, she had acquired a pair of jeans from Amélie’s closet, “Yeah well, y’know, they fit, and I didn’t fancy walking around in my knickers…”


“Ha,” Amélie smirked, following Lena with her eyes as she made her way around to sit at the breakfast bar opposite her, her arms folding on the counter as she hunched over, “Are you okay?”


She knew as soon as she had said it that it had been a stupid question, but Lena had seemed at least receptive to conversation and she hadn’t wanted a silence to build between them. The hard gaze Lena gave her however quickly softened, then she sighed.


“Amélie… I…” She faltered, looking for words.


“Mm?”


Lena twiddled her thumbs, furrowing her brows before speaking, “A got a question.” She glanced up to Amélie, expecting a response, but she was merely greeted with a single arched brow, “Look, like… You aren’t this. This isn’t you, I mean. Amélie was you I guess, but, you know...”


“But they killed her and replaced her with Widowmaker, so what am I doing?” Amélie finished for her, her rich accent and rolling cadence quite pleasant Lena thought, at least when it wasn’t laced with the usual snarkiness or venom, as it had been in most of their previous encounters.


Lena nodded.


Amélie closed her book and took a sip of her coffee, thinking for a long moment before responding, “When I murdered my husband in his sleep, I think I was, in every way, the monster you think me to be. I felt no remorse, no guilt. Not even a sense of loss. But you know, now, every Christmas I leave a rose on his grave. I don’t know what I feel when I visit. But I know I do feel.”


Lena nodded slightly but clearly hadn’t gotten the insight she had been hoping for, “So… What now then?”


“What do you want?” Amélie countered.


Lena looked at her for a moment then glanced around, “...I’m kinda hungry?”


Amélie gestured with a hand to the kitchen behind Lena and shrugged, “You’re welcome to cook whatever you like.”


Lena pursed her lips and cocked her head slightly, “About that…”


Amélie gave her a flat look, “Dieu, tell me you can cook?”


Lena shook her head and maintained Amélie’s gaze.


“...Alright.” Amélie sighed deeply, pushing her palms against the bar and moved to stand, stepping around it and into the kitchen, Lena twirling in her chair as she did to lean against the bar, watching Amélie.


“Ha, cheers love,” Lena said, a little victorious smirk on her lips.


Amélie rolled her eyes but opened the fridge.


It was surreal, Lena thought, to be sat there, watching as the purple-skinned assassin cooked her a meal, an omelette, which had turned out to be quite delicious. 


Their conversation for the rest of the day had been relatively sparse and touched on nothing important, favouring music, the weather, and anything else that meant nothing. It seemed like they were just acclimatising to the presence of each other in this new non-hostile environment. 


For the most part, Amélie read and relaxed, while Lena proved to be rather restless, moving from thing to thing. She worked out, sat around, watched TV, played cards and whatever else she could find to do. But by the time evening rolled around and the pair had shared another delicious meal, this time together, Lena had stood letting out a childishly theatrical yawn.


“So, which bed is mine? I'm gettin’ sleepy.” Lena asked, standing at a jaunty angle, hand on hip, her other covering her mouth to mask her yawn.


Amélie stretched her arms out up and above her head, accentuating her slender profile as she arched her back, her breasts pressing against the fabric of her T-shirt making it conform to her curves, she glanced sidelong at Lena, “Mm, your bed is whichever one I’m in mon cher.”


Lena looked a little uncertain, but by no means surprised, “You want me to sleep with you?”


“Of course,” Amélie let out a dry chuckle, “It gets cold alone.”


Lena stayed silent for a long moment, her gaze briefly flickering up and down, eying Amélie from top to toe, “Do I have a choice?”


Amélie watched her too for a moment before shrugging, “I guess that depends on your answer.” 


Rolling her eyes slightly Lena turned, padding lazily and barefoot towards the bedroom where she’d first woken up, “Guess we’re bunk mates then.”


Amelia watched her go, her eyes tracing down the girls back to her derrière, lingering for a moment before she was out of sight.


She was left sitting alone for a moment, weighing her options before, with a light sigh she stood, sauntering after the Brit and following her back into her own bedroom, switching off lights as she went.


Lena glanced up as Amélie entered, the woman hesitating in the doorway, leaning on it as she observed the partly undressed Lena, her long toned legs on show as she reduced her outfit once more to the T-shirt and panties.


After a long moments pause, Lena nodded her head towards the light switch beside Amélie, “You gonna hit the lights or what love?”


Amélie freely drank in the view for a few more seconds before lazily reaching out a hand, a little click preceding the rooms plunge into absolute darkness.


For Lena, who moved to sit down on the edge of the bed, making her way to lie down under the covers, the absolute dark was in some way liberating, she relaxed back into the warmth of the bed and let out a loud long sigh, as if releasing a lot of pent-up stress, laying on her back as she stared up blankly at the ceiling.


She listened in silence as clothes hit the floor to the side of the bed and before long she felt the mattress depress to her side slightly, Amélie climbing in alongside her.


For a little while, the two of them lay beside each other, each on their back, the silence stretching as they lay in the absolute dark. But the silence was eventually broken by Amélie, her voice coming out soft, “Pétale?”


Lena swallowed and felt a shiver run up her back, “Y-yes love?” her voice came out, a little anxious as if she had been expecting this.


“...Lay on your side, facing away from me…” 


Lena did as she was told rolling to lay on her side, her heart beating fast as she thought about all the things Amélie could order her to do.


Instinctively she tensed as she felt a cold touch, fingers running across her broad hips, the hand moving up to caress and rest on the smooth skin of her warm stomach.


Breathing quite quick she felt the pillow beneath her head swell slightly as Amélie’s other hand slinked beneath it. Lena felt herself begin to calm and relax as what Amélie was doing began to dawn on her.


She felt the curves of Amélie’s body find her own, the soft swell of Amélie’s breasts pressing to her back, the woman's nose against the back of Lena’s neck, her breath tickling as their legs intertwined, every inch of the cool woman seemingly seeking out the heat Lena’s body offered.


Though the wave of Lena’s anxiety had ebbed away, she felt a deep fluttering in her chest as Amélie spooned her, the only sound in the room their soft breathing, though Amélie’s was almost imperceptible next to Lena’s.


Lena felt… Safe. She felt genuinely safe. In the arms of this accomplished assassin who had more than earned her moniker, she felt comfortable. Had she enjoyed her day? Was she enjoying this now? 


Tentatively she moved her hand towards her stomach, under her own T-shirt to come to rest atop of Amélie’s. For a moment nothing, then Amélie splayed her fingers against the silky skin of Lena’s stomach and in a mutual action, their fingers laced together.


Lena squeezed gently.


Amélie squeezed back.


“A-Amélie?” Lena whispered softly.


“Mm?…” Came the response, a soft noise as she exhaled, Lena could feel the gentle vibrations of the hum against her neck.


“Are you… Are you gonna use that petal thing to make me… You know...” She trailed off…


Amélie stayed silent for a long few moments. She could, she knew, make Lena do anything she wanted her to do. And it was no lie that she felt a deep hungering for the slender girl, a lusting for her.


“...No, mon amour… No, you do not need to worry about that…” She finally replied.


Lena felt her heart beating faster, Amélie’s thumb tracing small circles across her stomach as they held hands. 


“What…” Lena started, then swallowed, unusually hesitant, “What if I wanted to?”


“Wanted to what?”


Lena bit her lip chewing it for a long moment in the dark, “Do… Stuff.”


The thumb against her stomach stopped moving.


“What would you want to do?...” Amélie asked, her voice edged with a curiosity.


“...What I wanted to?”


Amélie thought for a moment, inhaling the sweet scent of the girl pressed against her and felt an uncommon desire in her heart.


“...Okay.” 


Lena wriggled slightly and Amélie disengaged from their embrace, leaning backwards as the lithe British girl squirmed around.


Even with her enhanced vision in the absolute dark of the room, Amélie couldn’t make out the shape of the girl, merely feel the warmth of her presence. She waited, unsure as to what to expect from Lena. In all the plans she had made having Lena so genuinely interested in her had never really been a feature. It was a surprise, but not one she-...


Amélie’s train of thought derailed as she felt a hand press warmly against her shoulder, pushing her downwards. She complied with the hand, laying on her back once more as she felt Lena follow the hand, half draping herself on top of her captor, her foe.


Amélie felt an odd warmth inside her, different to before. She felt Lena’s breath against her lips, could feel the girls heartbeat, quick and excited against her chest. Lena’s lips found Amélie’s and they kissed, no hurried rush this time, Lena no longer frantic to kiss ‘like she meant it’, but slow and exploratory, as Amélie had first hoped.


Without the control she had held before, despite the more reserved, gentle kisses, Amélie felt more alive. She moved her hands to Lena’s body, caressing her arms and waist as they kissed. 


As time melted away Lena’s reservations followed, her kiss becoming less and less shy and more like the one they had indulged in before. Deep and passionate, Amélie’s mind electric as Lena’s hands caressed up her sides.


After a slow and intimate dance of tongues between them, Lena broke the kiss, panting softly and resting her forehead lightly against Amélie’s, their noses pressed gently to each others. Amélie swallowed gently and, to her surprise, could no longer feel Lena’s heartbeat over the strength of her own, hammering away in her chest, a rare occurrence for her.


“Wow, love… That was…” Lena breathed, voice gentle as she felt Amélie squeeze her waist slightly.


“Magnifique?” Amélie offered and Lena let out a cute little giggle.


“Yeah…” She bit her lip, reaching up her hand to caress Amélie’s cheek, feeling the softness of her skin under her thumb as she touched her, “...Want... More?”


“More than you could imagine…” Amélie answered, raising her hands till her fingers were laced in Lena’s stylish hair, pulling her back down into another eager kiss, one that they both melted into.


After a few long moments, their bodies intertwining as they kissed, Lena pulled back, sitting up and straddling Amélie, who moved her hands to rest of the girl's thighs, biting her lip as she pressed her soft length upwards a little, enjoying the sensation of it rubbing against Lena’s thick ass.


Lena felt the bulge moving up against her and she giggled a little, pressing her ass downwards into the softness, “Not yet love...”


“Non?” Amélie countered, chewing her lip as her hips made slow circles, gently grinding her length against the girl atop of her.


Amélie heard the sound of fabric hitting the floor beneath her, “Here, this first.” Lena whispered softly, taking Amélie’s hands and guiding them up her body. She felt Lena’s soft warm hands on her own, the girl's smooth skin gliding under her fingertips as they were led up, no T-shirt to be found.


Amélie felt a leap in desire as Lena let out a soft, high pitched gasp of pleasure, Amélie’s hands closing around and squeezing Lena’s modest breasts, lifting them on her chest and pressing them tight, feeling the girls delicate pink nipples, hard between her fingers as she squeezed them together.


Lena let out a light little moan as little sparks of pleasure buzzed across her chest, Amélie’s natural coldness, a side effect of her slower heartbeat, sent icy shivers down Lena’s nipples, enhancing her pleasure as Amélie freely played with her soft mounds.


Leaning forward Lena crowded the space between their bodies to the point where Amélie’s hands were forced to retreat around to gently rest on her back, but Amélie soon felt the soft intimate warmth of one of the girl's perky breast pressing against her lips and nose.


Biting her lip Lena let out another soft moan, her cheeks flushed crimson in the dark as she felt Amélie’s lips close around the firm bud of one nipple, the suction and slow swirling motion of her tongue having more of an effect on her than she would’ve thought. She hadn’t felt pleasure like this in a long time, like there was a deeper connection to it, and she knew the best was still to come.


Amélie let out a soft whine of protest as, after a few long moments of letting her play with both the girls nipples, Lena sat slowly back up, making Amélie reluctantly release the girls nipple from between her lips with a loud wet ‘pop’ that mingled around the room with a squeak of pleasure from Lena.


“Ah, mon chéri, I was enjoying that,” Amélie said softly, surprised by the playful tone in her voice, her hands coming to rest on Lena’s incredibly slender waist, giving her an eager squeeze.


Lena let out an almost nervous little giggle and sounded almost sheepish, “Sorry to spoil your party, but I got something else in mind…” 


Amélie arched an eyebrow as she felt Lena once more pull away from her grasp, her hands moving down across her thighs to come to rest on the bed sheets, Amélie finding herself eager now to know just what Lena had in mind for them both.


Lena started shuffling down the bed still straddling Amélie, leaving small little butterfly kisses against the woman's cool smooth skin, taking the duvet with her as she moved, exposing them both to the cool night air of their room.


“What are you-...” Amélie started, but gasped, her hands digging into the sheets as she felt the blushing warmth of Lena’s cheek press through the fabric of the slim boxers she wore against her sleeping cock. 


Lena ran her hands up Amélie’s thighs as she nestled her body down between the assassin's legs, quietly slipping off her black panties, her own legs kicking back and forth slowly, restless and eager. Slowly and heart fluttering in anticipation, she slid one hand up Amélie’s boxers, her lips kissing against the sleeping member through the fabric as her fingers traced up and closed around the soft cool shaft of her cock.


Amélie shuddered a little as the hot fingers closed around her cold member, biting her lip as she felt it twitch gently in the girl's delicate grip, her words coming out a little shaky, her breath noticeably quickened, “A-ah, mon trésor, that feels so good… Please…”


“Please what, love?” Lena all but moaned as she again pressed the soft warmth of her lips to the thick bulge of Amélie’s shorts.


Amélie breathed hard and looked down into the darkness where she knew Lena was doubtless looking back up at her, she could almost see the girls expression, lustful and eager. This wasn’t going at all like she had planned, she swallowed, “Please, more…”


Lena couldn’t help but to blush crimson in the dark, feeling an odd sense of control over Amélie as she was begged for more. For a moment she looked back on the memories of how Widowmaker had captured her and of all their encounters and fights beforehand. An entire history of conflict, all of which now felt somehow inconsequential when compared to the beating storm in her heart.


Withdrawing her hand from Amélie’s shorts Lena reached up, hooking her thumbs under the tight elastic band of her boxers to wiggle them down over Amélie’s broad hips. To assist Amélie raised her butt off the bed, neatly arching her back to allow them to be pulled down easier, exposing the soft length of her cock which rested against one thigh.


Lena bit her lip, having to content herself with having wiggled them down just enough to give her access, her own position between Amélie’s thighs blocking her from getting them any lower. Eager to discover what awaited her she reached back up, her fingers closing around the thick almost spongey softness of Amélie’s cock, pointing it upwards and giving it a few slow strokes, as if testing it out.


Slowly as she massaged the soft length she marvelled at its silky smoothness, her other hand sliding up Amélie’s body to rest on her stomach, more for her own support than anything else, but she soon felt Amélie’s hand find her own, fingers once more interlacing as Lena worked her length. 


Lena gave a soft squeeze of the fingers between her own and felt Amélie reciprocate again. Unable to stop herself from blushing and while feeling her heart hammering in her chest she leaned down, listening to Amélie release a pleasured gasp as Lena, without warning, closed her lips around the crown of Amélie’s cock, drawing it into the intense heat of her mouth where she let her tongue swirl eagerly around.


Amélie moaned as pleasure engulfed the soft tip of her cock, her hand squeezing Lena’s as the other continued to grip at the bedsheets. Lena’s movements were slow and sultry, her lips travelling up and down the soft length as it began to swell, a slow process, but with the base of her shaft held in Lena’s tight grip, Amélie knew it wouldn’t be long before the girl came face to face with her full size.


Lena gave herself wholly over to the activity of tending to Amélie’s cock, which was slow to rise in her wet eager mouth, though she wasn’t surprised by its sluggishness, likely a side effect of Amélie’s slowed heart rate she thought, doubling down on her efforts.


Amélie arched her back and breathed hard, working her hips up and down in eager little motions as Lena’s hot mouth slid up and down her length, drawing forth pleasure and lust beyond what Amélie could recall ever feeling.


Lena pressed her hand down around Amélie’s shaft, holding her cock between thumb and forefinger at the base, no longer gripping it with her fist, freeing up more of her now almost-hard length for Lena’s eager lips and tongue to explore and enjoy.


Feeling Amélie squeeze her hand Lena knew the effect she was having on her, her lips travelling down further, letting the cock press deeper into her mouth where her tongue met it with an eager swirl and lap.


Lena settled into a steady rhythm, her plush lips gliding up and down the steely length of Amélie’s spit-shined cock, the woman's moans mixing in with the lewd wet noises Lena’s mouth made as she sucked, rotating her head this way and that as she bobbed up and down.


(Art by Anasheya, check out their stuff!)

“A-ah, oh my, deeper Lena, please…” Amélie whispered softly, her voice laden with lust as she moved her hand from the bedsheets to the back of Lena’s head, gripping her gently and guiding her pace and depth, elements of control Lena seemed all too happy to relinquish.


Amélie chewed on her lip as she tugged the girls head further down onto her cock, feeling a firmness bump against the sensitive crown of her head, matched by a light ‘gluck!’ noise from Lena’s throat as it pressed against the back of her mouth. 


Arching her back and guiding Lena’s held hand up to cup and squeeze at her cool breast she continued to direct Lena’s head up and down, marveling at how the girl continued to suck at her hard length even as Amélie moved her faster and faster, the pleasure radiating through Amélie’s body like nothing she had felt before.


Lena blushed crimson as she let Amélie guide her head, struggling not to gag as the eager woman continually bumped the dark mushroom tip of her cock against the back of Lena’s throat, something she tried to relax, eager to feel every inch of Amélie’s frankly impressively sized length within her.


“R-relax your throat…” Amélie panted softly, biting her lip as she put more movement into the gyration of her hips, altering what had started as a slow intimate blowjob into more of a face-fucking.


Lena let out a childish little groan, trying to convey her message of ‘what do you think I’m trying to do?’, but it was lost in the increasingly wet noises emanating from her mouth and throat, lines of her spit and Amélie’s pre travelling down her slick shaft and over her smooth heavy balls to soak into the bed sheets beneath them.


After a few more long deep thrusts into Lena’s hot receptive mouth, Amélie began to worry she was overdoing it, using the girl too hard and pushing her further than she might want. Reluctantly, she pulled Lena up and off her cock, the girl letting out a loud gasp, her breath hot against Amélie’s skin as she whimpered cutely, catching her breath and letting out a couple of light coughs.


“W-why’d you stop?” Lena asked, resting her flushed cheek on Amélie’s thigh, kissing her steely wet length as she waited for a response.


“I thought I was being too rough…” Amélie said gently and felt Lena eagerly squeeze her breast, enticing another moan from Amélie’s pursed lips as Lena let out a soft breathy giggle, speaking with a cute edge to her voice.


“Maybe I like a little roughhousing love...” She teased and quickly felt Amélie’s fingers grip her hair just tight enough for it to hurt a little, tight enough to make Lena moan in response.


Amélie felt a fresh surge of lust within her at the girl's moans, there were more layers to this girl than she had possibly thought.


“Maybe I want to be a little rough with you…” Amélie teased back, pulling Lena up by the hair until she lay on top, her lips catching Lena’s in a quick kiss, tasting herself on Lena’s tongue as their bare bodies pressed together, Lena squirming gently to feel every inch of Amélie’s body caressing against hers.


Lena kissed across Amélie’s jaw and nibbled briefly at her ear, her voice coming out in a breathy whisper, highlighted by a warm, cheeky tone, “Oh yeah? I dunno if you’ve got the stuff…”


Amélie felt herself smirk, then smile broad, a soft chuckle escaping her lips as her hands instantly found their way to Lena’s hips, gripping her as she rolled over, the swift movement drawing a squeak and a bright giggle from the girl as she suddenly found herself on the bottom of the pair, feeling Amélie now on top shimmying out of her boxers.


Moving her hands up as the girl giggled and settled into the mattress Amélie found Lena’s arms in the dark, gripping her wrists and pinning them either side of the girls head, the force of her pin drawing another deliciously eager moan from Lena.


Leaning down Amélie kissed up Lena’s collarbone, finding her neck and kissing it eagerly, leaving a noticeable trail of love bites up one side, each one causing another high pitched moan from the girl beneath her who was clearly in a state of ecstasy despite the fact that her own needs had so far gone unattended.


Apparently aware of this, and eager to see change, Amélie felt Lena’s legs wrap around her waist, ankles crossing behind her back as she lifted herself up off the bed, the smoothness of her pussy pressing up against the underside of Amélie’s rock hard length.


Amélie felt Lena’s hands pull up, as if trying to wrestle back control, but Amélie forcefully pushed them back down into the mattress, drawing a pleasured little gasp from Lena who whined cutely, “Oh come on love, don’t make a girl wait!”


For a moment Amélie bit Lena’s lower lip, drawing a groan from the girl as she considering any number of responses, taunts or teases. But the fact of it was they both wanted it, desperately.


Releasing the girls lip Amélie urged her hips down and inward, her length twitching and throbbing as it pressed against and between the silky hot lips of Lena’s pussy, sliding up against them a couple of times, each miss drawing a pleasured noise from them both until finally, on the third push, Amélie felt her cock find its mark, spreading Lena’s lips wide and pressing an inch or so inside her.


Lena let out a loud fulfilled gasp, arching her back up so her chest pressed against Amélie's, their breasts rubbing together as she felt the long thick length push slowly inside her tight receptive body. Amélie felt her arms go weak as pleasure blossomed within her, her hard cock, still wet from Lena’s attention easily sinking into the wet waiting core of Lena’s slender body. 


The experience was indescribable for Amélie as she worked herself deeper with short slow thrusts, eager to bury every inch of what she had to give inside the girl. The tightness, the heat, the feeling of Lena beneath her so desperately trying to get more of her, all serving to raise her pleasure to new heights.


Amélie felt Lena’s thighs squeeze around her as her cock bottomed out in the girl, her entire throbbing shaft buried as deep as it could go inside Lena’s lithe body, the walls of her pussy squeezing down on her, milking her length as she gyrated her hips up against Amélie's cock.


“C-come on love, fuck me already!” Lena pleaded, her impatience once more shining through, though Amélie felt no need to disappoint her.


In this new kiss, Amélie was instantly the aggressor, her tongue pressing deep between Lena’s lips to mingle and toy with hers as her hips began to move, pulling back and pushing forward, filling the little fille with her thick girlcock.


She adored the sensation of Lena moaning into her mouth, the girl moving beneath her in time to her thrusts, enhancing each and every spark of pleasure as they sought to please each other in unison.


The heat was, for Amélie, the most overwhelming sensation that mingled with the pleasure. In all her time as Widowmaker her intimate encounters had been extremely limited and everything about this girl just radiated warmth, her skin, her pussy, her breath, she could even feel the girls blushing cheeks against her own as they made out.


Without slowing her thrusts Amélie broke the kiss, her hands releasing Lena’s wrists, one supporting her weight as the other once again tangled in the girls brown hair, gripping it tight as their bodies met in a rhythmic clapping sound.


Though Amélie was moaning and panting in pleasure, her voice was drowned out by the high pitched whimpers and gasps Lena produced, the bubbly girl unable to hold back the lust from her voice as Amélie took her, her ankles remaining locked around Amélie’s body as each thrust drove her to new heights of pleasure.


No longer pinned, Lena’s hands moved around Amélie’s back, gripping and holding her, dragging her down lower so that the woman was forced to press her body tight to Lena’s.


Lena could feel it, a pulsing deep within her that matched Amélie’s thrusts but outgrew itself every time, her own pleasure mounting faster than she had ever expected it to.


“O-oh fuck! Amélie! You’re gonna make me cum!” She cried out, breathing hard as her fingernails dug into Amélie’s back just hard enough to make her moan.


“A-ah, Lena, yes! Cum on my cock, you putain, cum for me!” Amélie shouted back, her voice, in her lust, heavier with her accent than usual, something about either that or the words themselves making Lena grasp her tighter, her high pitched gasps coming more and more frequently, finally joining together into a single long squeak as the girl's climax struck.


Amélie didn’t slow her thrusts, in fact she intensified her assault, slamming her cock into the shaking girl time and time again, not allowing her climax to subdue and instead forcing the girl beneath her to endure it for longer and longer.


Lena’s mind was a blank haze of pure pleasure and need, she needed this, she needed Amélie, she needed more.


“Amélie!! Please! Please cum in me!” Lena whimpered out loudly, her arms and legs tight as she clung on desperately to her lover, hanging on for dear life, feeling each and every steely inch of Amélie’s veiny cock as it buried itself to the hilt inside her time and time again, her heavy cum-filled balls slapping against Lena’s cheeks with each thrust.


Amélie couldn’t deny she could feel her pleasure rising, each solid thrust into Lena’s hot squeezing pussy pulling her closer to the inevitable edge of release that she could feel approaching. 


She wanted to make the moment, the experience, their first, to last forever, but she knew that wouldn’t happen, that her own climax was fast approaching, but she knew too that this was the first of many such encounters with her new, willing girlfriend, with Lena. With Tracer.


She gasped out as thoughts of what could be flooded her mind and her thrusts became less controlled, shorter and deeper with more force behind them as her willpower to hold off her impending orgasm buckled, her mind instead focusing onto the now, onto drawing out as much pure ecstasy from the moment as she possibly could.


She pushed herself up, widening the gap between the clingy Lena and herself just enough for her to slip a hand between them. Lena gasped, arching her back as she felt Amélie’s hand close around her throat, not squeezing or choking her, but grasping her, pinning her head and asserting dominance as Amélie’s tongue once again invaded her mouth.


Lena felt her eyes roll back with pleasure as she eagerly suckled on Amélie’s tongue, her hips jerking up against her as she felt the cock within her twitch and pulse, the onset of Amélie’s powerful climax met her deep eager moans and a liquid heat pulsing deep within Lena each time Amélie crested the waves of pleasure, spending her pent-up load inside the plucky, lustful Brit.


Her orgasm seemed to last forever, walls of pleasure cresting over her again and again as with each pulse she fired more and more of her thick creamy seed deep inside Lena’s hot pussy, but, it did eventually have to subside, her cock still buried deep within the girl, spending its last drops as Lena relaxed her grip, the pair of them breathing hard, utterly exhausted and completely satisfied.


“A-Amélie…” Lena whispered, her voice a little hoarse as she weakly held onto the panting woman.


“Y-yes?”


“...Wow…” Lena panted, giggling softly, “Just… Wow…”


Amélie grinned and chuckled softly as they moved in time to once more lay beside each other, this time in each other's arms, where they belonged. 


Lena felt like she needed a shower, or another hard fuck, but in her mind, there was really only one option. Held in Amélie’s arms, safe and secure, as they both lived in the afterglow of their lust, she felt the blanket of sleep creep upon her, drawing her down into its comforting depths where she willingly sank.


It was some time later when Lena let out a quiet little whimper and stretched her arms out above her head, feeling the warmth of the duvet enveloping her as the sleepy fog of her mind began to slowly melt away.


She lay, without opening her eyes, as the memories of the day before seeped in through the retreating dreams. Amélie. The woman who had conditioned her to obey her commands at a word, something that had proven to be unnecessary as the day had progressed into the evening. Still though, despite the conditioning Lena found it hard to be mad, without it, without Widowmaker’s targeted attack, she would never have really met Amélie. 


Just the thought of Amélie sent Lena’s heart to fluttering and, eager to be in her arms again she rolled onto her side, opening her eyes and smiling, reaching out towards… Where Amélie had been. Lena’s smile slipped away as she ran a hand across the sheets where Amélie had fallen asleep, snuggled up close to her, satisfied after their lovemaking. 


She lay for a moment staring at the empty pillow in the dim morning light beside her, the warm colours spilling in through the cracks in the window blinds indicating it was early morning, perhaps even sunrise.


Sitting up slowly she ran a hand through her hair, pushing it up into her preferred style as she glanced around for any indication of her new lover, but saw no sign. For a moment her imagination ran a little wild. Maybe Amélie had used her, had manipulated her somehow?


She felt a doubt creep into her. A sentence Amélie had said yesterday bouncing back into her anxious mind, ‘And I can think of no greater victory than this. To own you. To make you mine’. Had she played into Widowmakers plans last night? Had this been it all along? To lure her in with the facade of Amélie then leave her doubting everything about herself?


Feeling her anxieties rise she scooped herself up from the bed and, casting her gaze around, found something to cover her lithe nakedness with. The discarded T-shirt wouldn’t cover much, but she found herself in a bit of a hurry.


Cautiously she pushed open the door to the bedroom and poked her head out, glancing around as she held the hem of the T-shirt down, protecting her modesty as she slipped quietly into the hallway, padding barefoot towards the main living room and kitchen area.


As the space came into view she stopped, looking across towards the window where the first warm rays of the morning's light poured into the room, obstructed only by the lithe naked form of Amélie as she sat perched on the windowsill, her long hair loose as it hung down her back, her hands raised, clasped around a steaming white porcelain cup.


For a moment Lena stood in amazement, drinking in every slender line, every enticing curve, the fullness of her soft breasts and the memorable sight of her thick cock resting against one of her off colour thighs. Lena bit her lip as Amélie glanced her way, her yellow eyes half closed, still heavy with sleep, but her soft smile was genuine in the affection it radiated towards Lena.


(Art by Evulchibi, Check out their stuff!)

“Hey love…” Lena said gently, a warm smile touching her lips as her anxieties all but vanished, her unfounded fears replaced only with desire and adoration. 


“Mm, good morning… Join me?” Amélie’s voice was soft and loving, her expression hopeful as she cocked her head to one side, a few strands of her dark hair cascading from behind one ear where it had been tucked.


Lena nodded and moved over towards her, Amélie lowering a leg to give the girl space on the broad sill to settle. Lena sat down, shuffling backwards till her back was pressed to Amélie’s abdomen, one of the woman's hands, hot from the cup she had been clasping slinking around to rest on her stomach just under her T-shirt, caressing her.


Leaning back Lena felt the soft swell of Amélie’s bare, sun-warmed breasts press against the back of her head and she looked out the window, admiring the sunrise as Amélie took a casual sip of coffee, holding her in a comforting arm. 


For Amélie, who had spent so long alone now in life, she had never dreamt her plan of kidnap and conditioning would lead to this, would lead to Lena snuggled willingly against her as she drank coffee in the early morning sun. It was magical, in its own little way.


Cuddled together they both thought about what was in store for them in the future, how they would make it work, the doubtless challenges and issues they would face along an uncertain path. But without having to speak a word, they both knew this was where they wanted to be. 


*****


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