Chapter Text
“Can you grab me the files on the desk over there? The ones with the red spine,”
It’s been approximately a year since Talon had picked up astrophysicist Dr. Siebren de Kuiper, known more regularly as Sigma. He struggled immensely to settle in at the start, still unnerved by the fact he had been locked away for so many years. He stated that it felt wrong for him to act human again considering what he’s done to deserve his lockdown.
Gaining his own private lab and will to experiment to his heart’s content helped him to calm down and hone his extraordinary abilities more; but amongst that, you, of all things, also helped him to settle in. Along with other tasks around Talon headquarters, you were also given the job to keep tabs on the doctor to make sure he was, as Moira states, “functioning” correctly. He adored the company, especially when he heard of your shared fascination of the stars above. Of course, your knowledge of the universe was nowhere near as broad as his, but you were still an appreciative listener since you shared the marvel. You were quick friends early on, to say the least.
You’d stop in near the end of the day, sometimes help him out when he needed a hand or an outside view of something. The conversations were always relaxing and sweet. On the field, you looked out for each other’s backs. You worked mostly with snipers and he assisted you well with his shield. You knew certain levels of first-aid, so would patch him up in battle when he needed it. The two of you worked in harmony with one another. It makes you feel worse about how Sigma has zero idea that he’s being manipulated by Talon.
With the amount of time the two of you spent together, it really didn’t take long for things to become more…flirtatious between the two of you. Sigma started out with friendly compliments that you reciprocated with more flirty ones. Although caught off guard, he never disapproved of them. If anything, it gave him more confidence to be playful with his own flirts. You did a good job at keeping it more professional when around commanding officers, but throwing a suggestive compliment his way while others were around filled you with pride to watch him stammer, trying to quickly change the subject.
It’s been this way for months now and you’re starting to get tired of it. Not in the sense that it’s boring, but in the sense that you want him to just bend you over a table already. Preferably, his lab one.
“Of course,” you made your way over to a desk behind Sigma, absolutely littered with documents and crumbled up papers. You furrowed your eyebrows, turning to stare at his broad back, covered by his lab coat, “There’s two with red spines, Doctor,” you stated.
He cleared his throat, tilted his head your way, but not fully turning around to face you, “Oh, uh, my apologies. It should be the one on the left,” he fixed himself in his seat, scribbling and then erasing something on that same piece of paper for what felt like the fifteenth time.
You noticed both books stacked upon each other, raising an eyebrow, “They’re…both on the right,” you answered hesitantly, worried about bugging him. He grumbled to himself, erasing something once more before crumbling up the paper and tossing it into the trash besides him. He ran a hand through his receding hair, scratching at his head, “Kuiper,” you called. He turned to fully face you, expression lost and flustered. He seemed to be in his own world until you said his name. You frowned, worried he was ready to enter one of his manic episodes.
“I’m sorry, I’m quite tired. It’s been a long day,” he said as he stands up, heading over to the desk to organize its cluttered surface. He was besides you and you had to take a few steps back to comfortably stare up at him.
You chuckled, “You and me both. Reaper worked my ass off today. I’m still a bit sore,” you say as you stretched out your arms, feeling the sting in them as your joints popped.
“You should get some rest then. You do a lot around the base. Take care of yourself,” he said with care, his face still blank as he seemed to space out. His hands stopped working, clutching at the papers in his hand. He chewed on his lip, thinking deeply on something.
You tilted your head, looking up at his eyes, always shining so beautifully, “I never know what’s going on in that head of yours,” you comment, snapping him back as he glanced over, hurriedly throwing away the papers.
“I apologize, I haven’t been such great company for you tonight,”
You sigh, “It’s fine, don’t worry. You want to talk about what’s on your mind?” you ask, but don’t expect him to agree. His face is flushed as he started to stammer, shifting on his feet as he lets out a series of sounds as he figures out what to say next, “Hey, hey,” you lay a hand on his arm, rubbing at the spot, “It’s okay, I was asking. You don’t have to say yes,”
“I’m s-,” he stops himself, aware that he’s already apologized several times, “It’s a personal matter,” he says, eyes looking anywhere but where you stand.
“Yeah? Then don’t worry about talking about it,” you reassure, smiling, “Don’t want to intrude on your personal life,”
“It’s not that I don’t want you to,” he states, “I trust you, it’s just something more…” and then his mind wanders again, gaze drifting off.
Your own gaze drops, feeling bad that he seems so…lost. Though due to the height differences, when your eyes glance down, it’s immediately obvious what it is he has going on. You snicker to yourself, smirking, though deciding to act like you don’t really know.
“I guess some things are even hard for an astrophysicist like yourself to figure out,” you say as your hand trails down his arm, making sure your nails scratch just barely into his clothes. He shutters, stiffening up, “Though, if you’re certain you don’t want a hand, then I won’t push…” you say as you back away, taking note at how he whips his head around to watch as you get ready to leave.
“I…” he doesn’t actually speak yet, unsure if he should stop you.
“Yes?” you ask, urging him to say anything
He gulps, “You’re aware,” he’s caught on to your suggestion, downcast eyes avoiding you.
“I am,” you smirk, a devious tone to your voice, “It’s a bit too large to just simply ignore,” you grab your bag off the floor, lazily sticking your hand in it like you’re trying to find something, “I haven’t walked out of your lab yet, Doctor,” you say as his eyes meet yours.
He saunters up to you, frame absolutely towering over yours as he releases a large breath that he’s been holding in, hand coming up to cup your face, making it look puny in his palm, “May I…kiss you?” he asks politely, eyes locked onto yours.
“Of course,” you smile genuinely, standing as far up on your tippy-toes as possible to make it easier on him. He still has to bend down by a lot, but that doesn’t matter to either of you once his lips meet yours, engaging in a soft, gentle kiss. He’s slow about it, keeping it romantic and sweet. The shape of his lips seem to mold perfectly against your own, like they were carved together in a marble statue, made for one another and nobody else. He pushes into you more before inhaling through his nose deeply, pulling away.
“This is…” he sighs, trying to catch his breath.
“This is what?”
His hand that lays in your cheek rubs at the bone gently like you’re made of glass, “This may be wrong. I am much older than you,” his self doubt starts to eat away at him as he realizes what he’s done.
You laugh boisterously, surprising him as he leans up into a more comfortable posture, “Hasn’t stopped you from ogling my ass though,” he freezes up, mouth hanging open as he’s keenly aware that you knew, “I’ve noticed you staring. You do it quite often. I bet you like when I use a sniper and I have to crouch down. Gives you quite a new view, huh?” you step forward so you’re more directly under him, letting your bag drop off your arm and onto the floor, forgotten completely.
His face is more red than ever as he smiles sheepishly, “Better view than the stars above,” he says as he brushes hair from your face, seeming more calm about this now.
“Wow. Considering you, that’s the highest level of compliment anyone can receive,” you joke and he laughs lightheartedly, leaning back down to give a peck to your forehead. You lean into his lips, hands coming up to run down his chest. He shutters, lips now just resting on your skin, “So…still want help?”
“Please,” he huffs, “Please don’t go,”
“Then let me help,” you begin trying to guide him back to his desk chair, nudging him every time he tries to stop. The back of his legs hit the chair as he looks confused, glancing down at you, “Go on. Sit,” you say. He looks slightly skeptical, but listens as he plops down on the chair, not breaking eye contact. You’re almost at eye level with him now, though it’s still a stretch. You step forward, standing between his legs as you lean in for another kiss, hands running down his chest, gripping at the lab coat to try and tug it off.
He helps, hands tearing it from his body and then immediately flinging out to grasp at your waist, pulling you closer to his body as his hard-on rubs against you. You hum into his mouth, biting down on his bottom lip as you grind into him, pulling a strangled moan from his throat. You break the kiss, hand holding his chin as you tilt his head up, mouth finding his neck instead.
You start out with sweet puckers to the skin, some kisses lingering longer than others. On a few, you would bite down, sucking at the skin, feeling the vibrations of his groans. Your hands slide down under his turtleneck shirt, nails dragging up his chest and feeling the soft hairs, and shockingly toned body. Your nails glided over his nipples, running circles around them. You pulled away from his neck, basking in his expression. He was already a flustered mess. His eyes were puffed with arousal, lips quivering and eyebrows furrowed. You laugh, leaning in to leave a small kiss at the tip of his nose, “My, you’re already a fucking mess,” you point out, hands sliding down his chest to his abdomen, and then to his pants to play with the waistband.
“It’s…been a long time,” he says with a hushed voice, almost like he’s ashamed of himself to admit it.
“It’s okay, you look hot as fuck right now,” he chokes on his own breath, struggling to reply, “Don’t worry about experience, you’re doing perfect,” you say with a peck to his cheek, tugging at the waistband again, trying to get the massage across that you want them off. He lifts himself slightly off the chair, his hands, much bigger than your own, assisting in pulling them off. He kicks them aside, his boxers doing little to nothing to hide his hard-on. Your hands drag down his body as you get on your knees before him, face right in front of his clothed erection. Rubbing up his legs and to his thighs, you play with the skin around the boxers, stalling in pulling them down. You hook your fingers under the waistband of it and pull, letting it slap back against his skin. He jumps and so does his confined dick. You chuckle, finally pulling down the boxers so they rest at his ankles. His dick bounces up, finally free. It was large in length, skinny and slim in its width, and you begin to wonder if you’ll even be able to take it. You lean in, kissing up both his thighs, hands following behind each peck, though stopping right at the base of his dick, refusing to give it contact just yet. You did this a few times, Sigma huffing above you, clearly getting impatient, though he does not speak up like you want, “Come on, baby,” you say.
He looks shocked, “Wh-What?”
“Tell me what you want from me, Siebren,” you say as you nip on his thigh, making his erection bounce.
He grunts, face on fire, “Please just touch me…” he begs quietly.
“Where?” you ask smugly. His lips quiver as his ears burn a bright red, hands gripping at the sides of the chair, desperate to take a hold of something. You decide to let him have it, knowing anymore teasing and his little old heart would explode. You grab at the base of his cock, leaning in to press a delicate kiss to the tip. He sighs, leaning back as his eyes watch you, flushing when you glance up at his face. You rub up its whole length, squeezing when you get to the red, blaring head. You lick up the underside of it, pressing hard against each vein your tongue finds, stopping when you meet your hand that rubs circles over the cock’s slit.
He’s huffing and moaning above you, shifting constantly, trying his best to avoid bucking into you. You shift, bringing your lips up to the tip to spit out a bit of saliva, your hand coming up to rub it around to use it as lubricant. Your hand now slides effortlessly over his shaft, your lips finally coming down to take him in your mouth. He jolts, accidentally thrusting into you on reflex, making you choke in surprise.
“S-Sorry! I’m so sorry,” he apologizes, hand coming out to rest on your head. Your eyes meet his, shaking your head as best you can to try to convey that you’re fine, trying to slowly take more of him in your mouth, hand stroking every part you can’t reach. You slide back up, tongue running circles around his flushed head, abused and leaking with precum into your mouth. It tasted bitter, but you don’t take the time to focus on it, other hand coming up to cup and play with his balls, “Fuck…” he swears with a guttural moan; a rare thing for him to even use vulgar language. His hands are shaking, one of them finding leverage in your hair, head thrown back as he squeezed a fistful of your hair, “P-Please, hold on just a moment!” he begs, voice shaky and raspy, sweat pooling down his face.
You release his dick with a pop, glancing up at him, “Everything okay?” you ask with concern.
“Y-Yes, I want to…I need to hold you,” he says as he’s leaning down to grab at your arms, pulling you until you’re sitting in his lap, hands holding your waist with an iron grasp. Your hand raises to wipe at the sweat, kissing his cheeks and then his nose. He leans into the touch, reciprocating as he pecks at your jawline. Your other hand snakes around your back to feel around for his dick, finding it as it jumps at your touch again. You shift more comfortably in his lab, wrapping your palm around him as you stroke again, giving tight squeezes every other pass.
“You’re doing such a good job,” you praise as he nuzzled into your neck, hiding his face as he peppers kisses along your neck, “Such a good boy…” you murmur right into his ear as you give a particularly hard squeeze, his whole body jumping as he tries his absolute hardest to curl into your body.
“I-I won’t last..!” he exclaims with a moan, panting into your neck.
“Then don’t. You don’t have to, love,” you try to focus on what’s happening behind you, relying only on touch as you feel over his erection, hand some times slipping off of him as you can’t see. Every time you brush over the head, he lets out louder moans, clearly most sensitive there. He throws his head back, bucking up into your hand wildly, his mouth hanging open as drool slips past his lips. Leaning forward, you bite and suck at the skin of his neck, trying to take care that you don’t leave a mark, but letting him know you very much can.
He’s an absolute disaster now. His hands are clinging to your body and pulling you as closely to him as possible, trying to bask in the contact and pleasure as much as he can. His hips are slamming up into your hand, making your body jump in his lap. He’s holding onto you for dear life, mind fogged and loud, screaming with the desire to shove himself deep inside you, spraying ropes of his cum along every inch of your cunt. Stars above, he wants to fucking breed you.
“Siebren,” you huff into his ear, core throbbing with your own want to get pounded by him, “You can cum. You did so well, you’ve earned it. Go ahead,”
“I…hng!” he’s grumbling, unable to form a complete sentence in his haze. His hips jerk up into your hand harshly as he groans loudly, body spasming as you feel his seed shoot up your back, some falling back down onto your hand. He gives a give more lazy thrusts as you slow your strokes to a gentle rate, letting him calm down.
You pull away from his neck, letting him lean his head back to look down at you. His pupils are blown out, his mouth hanging open as he tries to regain his breath. You bring the hand up that you didn’t jerk him off with, rubbing lovingly at his cheek bone, “You did fantastic,” you compliment with a little laugh, loving his sex expression.
“Thank you…” he mumbles, still not fully recovered. You go to stand up, but his hands still clamped down on your hips keep you grounded, “Please don’t leave just yet,” he asks, a wretched look to his face.
“I won’t, don’t worry,” he pulls you in for a hug, head resting at your shoulder.
Suddenly, the intercom on the wall lights up, flickering on with a squeak, “Dr. Kuiper,” Sombra’s voice cuts through, teasing tone as always. Sigma jumps, startled, with fear evident on his face, definitely expecting the worst, “Gabe’s asking for you. Wants to talk about last mission’s data,” she explains, though it sounds like she’s stifling a laugh. She knows.
“Well…” you begin, pulling away from him as he lets you now. You laugh as you take in his sweat soaked features again, “Try to freshen up well. It’s obvious you just got fucked,” he’s embarrassed by the comment, but gives a small chuckle himself. You then become aware of his cum on your back by the discomfort. Ugh…it’s wet. You stand up, fixing your disheveled clothes, taking off the article of clothing he came all over as you have an undershirt beneath it.
“I’m sorry I couldn’t…” he clears his throat, “You still haven’t-“
You hum, “Don’t worry, I’ll be getting off to the thought of this for weeks to come. You go and talk to Reaper before he blows a fuse,” he flushed at your bold statement, standing to gather his clothes up, “I’ll see you later, Doctor,” you say as you grab at your discarded bag, heading for the door.
“You most certainly will,” he states as he fixes his pants around his waist, making your heart jump in excitement. You smile to yourself as you run out the door, eager to get back to your dorm and get the fuck off to this.