#non--bellus

 This wasn’t supposed to feel good at all, he was still fucking raping you. And here you were, moaning around his cock like a whore. What the hell was wrong with you?

Don’t be so hard on yourself, a small voice chided you.

 You weren’t exactly sure which was worse; the way he had simply taken what he wanted from you, or the way he was obviously trying to get you to enjoy your own abuse.

 All of it was fucking with your head.

 And it felt like he’d been at it for hours now. He was obviously trying to get you to come on his dick this time, then why was he drawing it out like this?

 It was too hot in your room, the friction between you two was stifling, Reaper himself was practically burning your skin where he was touching you, waves of heat radiated off of him, at the same time that black mist was swirling around and was soothingly cool where it kissed your sweaty body.

 You moaned in both agony and pleasure, although the latter was definitely outshining anything else you felt at the moment. It was building again, another approaching orgasm promising sweet release.

 It was obvious that Reaper was holding himself back, he was working you up and determined to get you off this time. So there was no getting out of this without you reaching that peak.

 Another plethora of foreign words whispered against your ear sent shivers all over your body, your legs shook where they lay spread around his hips, the muscles no longer able to function properly. Your mind was slowly starting to drift amidst the heat and how your head swayed with his thrusts.

 “—ine, mariquita.”  

 His last words made your ears perk up, while you’d started to zone out he had partially shifted back to English. But you’d only caught the end of the sentence.

 You wanted to ask what he’d said but just as you opened your mouth to speak he hit you at that angle that had you moan in abandon.

 His teeth grazed against your jaw, and your heart jumped into your throat at the feeling.

 “Mine,” he repeated, and in the darkness his red eyes flashed where they stared into yours. The expression on his face was overwhelming. Ecstasy and pleasure was written all over it, but underneath was that always present otherworldly demonic quality that was so terrifying it left you speechless.

 A full bodied sob shook you as he leaned even closer and hissed “You’re      mine.” There was nothing remotely human in the way he sounded, you couldn’t describe how his voice grated over your senses, how it rattled you to the core and took away the very last remnants of hope that you’d dared to hold on to.

 Now that he had found the angle that had you wailing in pleasure, he was hitting that spot mercilessly. All you could do was try to keep breathing through it, you were no longer able to stop making sounds.

 He was hitting you just right, but not fast enough to send you over the edge.

 Your voice was giving out at one point, screeching and hoarse moans was all that came forth now. Eyes screwed shut in exhaustion and concentration, you balled your hands into fists above where he was still holding them down onto the mattress.

 You couldn’t take this anymore.

 “Please,” you whispered hoarsely, eyes wet and stinging.

 And by some strange kind of miracle Reaper actually listened. Gradually, he sped up. It only took a few more long strokes of his cock for you to reach your release with a long broken whimper.

 When you zoned back in, you felt how he came inside you one more time, accompanied by a low growl that he released into the darkness of your room.

 For a long time nothing happened, Reaper was still between your legs, his hands around your wrists and you two were just breathing hard. You couldn’t bring yourself to open your eyes, you were too tired of having to see him. Of that smug look of satisfaction on his stupid, handsome demon face.

 Finally, he released your arms, pulled back and slowly slid out of you. His seed was running down between your thighs and into your sheets, it made you want to die.

Please just leave, you thought desperately. You just wanted to be left alone already, to pretend none of this ever happened. To erase his touch from your body with the hottest water your pathetic little shower could provide.

 Reaper got off the bed and it felt like a weight was lifted off your shoulders, like you could breathe again. Instinctively, you turned to the side and into a fetal position, your body trembling as you hugged yourself.

 But you didn’t hear him leave at all, he seemed to be going into your bathroom instead.

 He returned to the bed shortly, the mattress dipped underneath his weight and soon his heat settled next to you again. Your skin crawled in revulsion as he brought a cool, damp cloth against the wound on your neck.

 How considerate. You wanted to punch him so badly.

 “Don’t,” you rasped quietly, defiance and anger scratching at the surface of your repressed emotions.

 He said nothing, but removed the cloth and pressed his body against your backside instead, effectively spooning you with his strong, ashen arms around your middle.

 Hot tears were burning your eyes once more. When would this torment end, why couldn’t he leave you alone already? You wanted to put your clothes back on, get a barrier between yourself and him, anything.

 Another very long moment went by before he spoke up.

 “I wasn’t always like this, you know.”

 You were stunned into silence once more.

 What?

 Goodness, was he going to tell you his life story now?

 You didn’t respond, not wanting to encourage him to stay longer than necessary. You didn’t care for his vulnerable-side-act at all.

 But he went on, unbothered by your silence.

 “I haven’t felt anything in… years.” His voice ghosted over your shoulder between small kisses. “Not since you touched me. There is something in that blood of yours that makes me–” he stopped and searched for the right words, his fingers squeezing your hip. “–it drives me insane.” A dark chuckle that caused goosebumps to rise along your arms. “More than usual.”

 Fuck, you didn’t want to hear any of this, his fucked up excuse for raping you.

 “How nice for you.”

 “Don’t be like that mariquita.” How dare he sound so nonchalant and amused at this. “I’m sorry about your neck,” he murmured and pressed a soft kiss to the wound. It stung and you winced, trying to pull away from Reaper’s embrace. He held on tightly, nosing into your neck further, inhaling your scent. “I won’t bite you next time,” he promised with his teeth bared in a grin and your heart came to a stop.

 Next time?

 He had just confirmed your worst fear. Your head spun around to stare at him in shock. But his smirk spoke volumes.

 “No,” you whispered feebly, head shaking in denial.

 Reaper chuckled darkly, one hand holding your face in a deceivingly soft touch.

 “I don’t think you listened to me,” his face fell a little. “I need this, I need to feel this.” An edge of madness had crept into his eyes, into the way he spoke those words through his teeth, and how the previously gentle hold of his hands turned into unforgiving grips of desperation.

 You whined. No, no, no… not again, never again. When a tear escaped your wide, fearful eyes, it seemed to startle Reaper out of his current headspace. His fingers relaxed again, his thumb even wiped away the moisture from your cheek.

 His face had gone back to his usual expression of disinterest and general broodiness.

 “You are mine,” he said, a finality to his tone that stood at odds with the soft caresses he made to your face and sides. When you didn’t answer him–because, what were you supposed to say to that?–he turned you around to face him fully and pulled you closely.

 At this point, there was no fight left in you, he was able to manipulate your body however he saw fit. His right hand resumed his spot on the side of your face, angling it up so you had to look him in the eyes while he was pressed against you again.

 The two of you were just staring at each other, Reaper with satisfaction, and you with silent resignation.

 When he pulled you towards him you managed to whisper “I hate you,” before he closed the distance and kissed you.

***

 The days were blending together while you were holed up alone in your room. A simple sick note to the lab excused your absence, explaining in a few words that you would not be present for a couple of days.

 Surprisingly, Casey came to visit you on the third day. She had brought chicken soup and encouraging words. You’d noticed how she hadn’t taken a single step inside, even though you’d offered her a seat.

 A turtleneck sweater was hiding the marks on your throat from view, even though they had begun to fade already thanks to your accelerated healing. Still, you were paranoid that they were visible and you absolutely did not want to have that conversation with anyone.

 A knock at your door startled you from where you sat on your armchair eating the lukewarm soup that tasted like watered down broth, even though your stomach was thankful for the sustenance, you hadn’t eaten since you’d called in sick. Thinking it was Casey again, you didn’t bother to look through the door’s peephole and opened it.

 Ogundimu was standing on the other side, white elegantly cut suit and gold frame sunglasses accentuating his expensive taste in clothes. With a small smile he greeted you and boldly stepped inside, almost knocking you out of his way had you not made room for him.

 You watched him as he looked around, assessing your living conditions. Just now you realized that your room was pretty messy. Clothes were lying on the ground, the bed was still unmade from three nights ago. You were sleeping in your armchair now, you couldn’t even look at the bed for longer than a second.

 Ogundimu looked out of place in your small shabby room, he did not belong here at all.

 “Did you need something?” You asked after a few seconds, already annoyed at his presence.

 “Actually,” he said and turned around to you, taking off his glasses in the process, “I wanted to see if there was something you needed.” His eyes roamed over your front, no doubt judging your choice of clothes and messy hair.

 Self-consciously, you rubbed at your arm.

 “I’m good,” you lied.

 “Excellent, because I need you in fighting condition in two days.”

 You just gawked at him. Was he talking about another mission? Another mission… with Reaper? Cold dread settled in your stomach.

 “I–I don’t know if I…” you stammered and averted your eyes to the floor.

 You heard Ogundimu take a few steps towards you.

 “I almost forgot,” he murmured and held out a chip towards you. Confused, you looked up at him again. “Here’s the pin code for that bank account we spoke about.”

 You knew there must have been various emotions flitting across your face right then from the way Ogundimu was studying you. Shock, denial, sadness, and anger made you ball your hands into fists.

 After a deep breath to calm you down you answered him.

 “I don’t want your money.”

 His eyes squinted, first in suspicion, but then his mouth split in a small grin.

 “The mission brief is tomorrow at 0700 sharp,” Ogundimu changed the subject and laid the chip down on your coffee table, put his shades back on and was moving to your door again. “Don’t be late,” he said before he left.

 Three days. It had only been three days since you’d last seen Reaper. It was too soon, you couldn’t deal with him again. Not yet, not ever again really. With a big sigh you sunk into your armchair, the cold soup’s smell nauseating. Your eyes fell onto the small chip lying so offendingly on the table. With a grunt you grabbed it and stuffed it into your pants pocket so you didn’t have to see it anymore.

***

 You woke in a cold sweat on your chair, another nightmare had woken you early. The bedside table clock read a few minutes after six in the morning. A shaking clammy hand wiped at your face when you sat up.

Ouch, your back was hurting so much from the awkward position you’d slept in. One arm had fallen asleep and was now tingling unpleasantly. You were still tired, so unbelievably tired. It was becoming increasingly difficult to sleep at all at night, you never knew if Reaper would simply appear out of thin air when you weren’t looking. And when you actually managed to drift off it was to night terrors of a very specific kind, with whispered words about pleasure and pain, making you relive that night in vivid detail.

 “Fucking hell,” you sighed heavily and pushed off from the chair to drag yourself into the bathroom. Today was the stupid brief for some stupid mission, so you had to look presentable, you guessed. You’d really slacked off these past few days, but you didn’t care what anyone thought.

 A quick shower and brushed teeth had you feel a little better at least, although donning the informal Talon uniform jacket with the embroidered insignia made your stomach turn. That, and probably the fact that you’d only eaten one bowl of soup these past four days. Before you would go to that meeting you’d grab something to eat in the cafeteria.

 On your way there you met Dr. O’Deorain who sipped coffee from a porcelain cup.

 She called your name and waited until you approached her.

 “Seeing you here, up and about, I’m guessing you’ll be working at the lab today?” Her voice was stern, as was her face. She was probably annoyed that you’d been absent for so long.

 As you were contemplating what to say, you figured that now she had seen you it was hard to pretend to be sick anymore.

 “Uh, yeah. I guess I will.”

 “Good. There’s a lot to be done,” she answered, then took a swig from her cup. “Also, I made some adjustments to your glove. We will do some testing later.” With that off her chest she just turned and left, not bothering to wait for your answer.

 After you managed to chew on a sandwich for a few minutes you made your way to the briefing room, cup of coffee still in hand. There were only a few other agents seated around the big table in the middle, talking amongst themselves. Again you chose a seat far in the back, keeping to yourself and sipping from your paper cup sporadically.

 Just a few seconds later Ogundimu entered the room. All eyes were on him as he took his place at the head of the table.

 He stood tall and imposing, his fingertips grazed the tabletop. “Good morning,” he said, his eyes making the round. “On your screens are the coordinates for our latest mission to Numbani.”

 In front of you, a holo screen popped up. An orange map was showing a pulsing spot right over Numbani, in the top left corner a photo of a girl, smiling at the camera, underneath her name: Efi Rotìmí Opèyèmi Oluwadaré Gabrielle Oladele.

 Another assassination target. You felt nauseous again. Cold sweat broke out on your skin. They wanted to kill a child. What the hell were you still doing here?

 While Ogundimu went on about specifics for their approach you zoned out.

 Why were you even surprised at this point? They killed people all the time after all, lots of them. They apparently had no qualms about forced prostitution either, so why had you assumed they’d draw the line at child murder?

 You couldn’t look away from her happy face, her carefree countenance was so at odds with this sinister plan to kill her it made bile rise in your throat.

 The door banging open all of a sudden startled you so much you thought your heart was jumping out of your chest.

 At the entrance stood Reaper in his usual attire, mask and claws in place. You sunk back into your chair, you hadn’t been prepared to see him again so soon.

 Reaper was still as a statue, he looked around the room once before his gaze stopped on you for a second. Your breath caught as you were staring back at him, he was the most terrifying in that mask.

 The claws on his hands tightened into fists once, before his mask was turned to Ogundimu, whom he had interrupted mid sentence.

 “What is this?” Reaper asked, anger dripping from his gravelly voice.

 “Gabriel, can I help you?” Ogundimu offered with a smile. He pulled away from the table and gestured to the screen behind him. “We are in the middle of a briefing.”

 “I can see that, Akande.” He really sounded pissed now, and for once it was nice to not have that anger directed at you. He stepped inside and towards Ogundimu before continuing a little quieter. “What I’m asking is why I haven’t been informed of this mission.”

 Huh, that was interesting.

 Ogundimu smiled a placating smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

 Before he gave Reaper an answer he walked to the door and then turned to the agents who were deathly silent in the face of Reaper’s anger.

 “I believe we managed to cover all the important parts, I’ll forward all the details to your communicators, you’re dismissed.”

 You’ve never seen anyone leave this fast from a mission brief and you mentally rolled your eyes at their fear. If they thought Reaper was scary now they should see him with blood on his lips and a crazed smile.

 Oh, your mind was wandering into dangerous territory, you shook your head and got up from your seat last, creeping along the side of the table and toward Ogundimu who held the door open for everyone.

 “Not you,” Ogundimu said and put his cybernetic arm between you and the exit.

  Shit, you mentally cursed and cast wary eyes up to him.

 “Go and sit down.” He gestured stony faced to the seat closest to him. You did so reluctantly, anxiety skyrocketing. When you had sat down you opted to watch your own hands where they fiddled with the material of your pants underneath the table. Why did he want you to be present?

 Ogundimu closed the door gently before moving towards Reaper again, who was still standing in his spot at the head of the table.

 “You weren’t informed because you are busy with your own missions, are you not?” Ogundimu’s eyes were narrowed as he addressed the other man. Reaper crossed his arms in front of his chest. From where you sat you could see that both of them were about the same height as they stood toe to toe.

 “Cut the crap, we both know this has nothing to do with that,” Reaper growled beneath his mask.

 Ogundimu smiled. “I am surprised. You’re usually not even present for briefings.”

 “That’s because I’m usually the one devising the fucking plan for those missions.” Reaper was seething. “Who planned this one, Akande?” The way he was saying the other’s name tended to sound like an insult.

 Ogundimu leaned his head back a fraction. “Maximilien and I did.”

 Reaper huffed. “Should have known you would go over my head like this sooner or later.”

 “Oh, come now, Gabe—”

 “Don’t fucking Gabe me now.” Reaper interrupted him, his arms back at his sides, hands balled into fists. You could hear the leather of his gloves straining from where you sat. “Honestly, I don’t care for your mission.”

 “Then why the scene?”

 Reaper stepped right into Ogundimu’s space, head at an angle. “Why is she here?”

 They both looked at you, and you couldn’t even meet their eyes, you cast your gaze back down to your hands with frayed nerves.

 “We need a medic, don’t we?”

 “Then take another one.”

 “Why?”

 “Because she’s—” Reaper stopped abruptly, and you raised your head tentatively to peek at him through your lashes.

 You saw a nasty smile spread across Ogundimu’s face. “Because she’s what?”

 Reaper had backed down a few steps, his body language had changed from angry to uncertain. It was weird to see him like that.

 “She’s–nothing.” He hissed and sat down in the chair at the very head of the table. “She can’t even heal enough without fainting.”

 Why did that comment hurt?

 Ogundimu turned to you, his mouth still curled into a smile as he studied you. You hugged yourself with one arm, this whole situation was unbearably uncomfortable.

 “So she’s nothing to you?” Heavy steps came to stop behind you, Ogundimu’s presence was unsettling.

 Reaper only grunted, arms crossed once more, casually sitting in that massive chair.

 Ogundimu’s flesh and bone hand landed on your shoulder like it did so many times before. But this time it felt different, he hadn’t done it for your benefit, not to placate you, not to comfort you, but as an interlude. Somehow you knew what was about to happen, you shivered in fear.

 “If that is the case,” he murmured and dropped his cybernetic arm on your other shoulder as well before bringing it forward to wrap his mechanical fingers around your throat and squeeze. “Then you wouldn’t mind if I killed her, right?”

 Your mind drew blank, as if on their own accord your eyes shot to Reaper as your mouth opened to suck in a breath.

 But he just sat there, totally unphased by what was happening.

 When Ogundimu saw no reaction from the other man, he gradually tightened his grip on your windpipe until you whimpered and tried to pry his hand off with your own.

 “You’d kill one of your few medics just to prove a point?” Reaper asked, his head tilted.

 You stared at him incredulously.

 Had all of Reaper’s talk about you belonging to him been untrue? If so you’d be screwed now, because apparently you were of no use for Ogundimu besides being a way to find out about Reaper’s loyalties and motivations.

 “Try me,” Ogundimu said heatedly.

 You groaned when the pressure became so unbearable that you thought your eyes would pop out of your skull any moment. This was even worse than the time Reaper was strangling you, he hadn’t squeezed nearly as hard as Ogundimu. Already your vision was fading, bright spots were dancing in front of your closed lids and panic was making your heart pound wildly against your chest.

 Tears were streaming down your face when the pressure suddenly let off and you could breathe again. It hurt, oh it hurt so much when you tried to breathe two mouthfuls at a time. His hand was still around your neck though, still holding you upright, the back of your head now pressed against his abdomen behind you.

 “You have a point,” the man said behind you, “it would be quite the waste.”

 Then he leaned down to your level.

 “Sorry, this isn’t personal,” Ogundimu whispered in your ear deceptively soft. Then he hauled you up from your seat, kicked aside the chair from right below you and crowded you against the table until you were bent over it, his crotch pushing into you from behind. The hand around your throat disappeared completely and instead grabbed a handful of your hair, pulled tight and forced you to look at Reaper again.

 “You wouldn’t mind if I—” Ogundimu rolled his hips into you and you gasped in shock. “—borrowed your little toy?”

 Oh fuck. Oh fuck no. No, no, no… what the hell was happening? Was Ogundimu really going to… just to piss off Reaper?

 “No!” You couldn’t help it, this was too much. You couldn’t even bear the thought.

 From eyes blurred by tears you saw Reaper slowly unraveling his arms, leaning forward in his seat, the hollow eyes of his mask boring into yours. He was breathing faster, the way his armor was rising and falling was visible to you even from across the table.

 “Go on, fuck her. I don’t care.”

 Well, shit. He wouldn’t help you after all. Ogundimu’s plan wasn’t working, Reaper wasn’t reacting at all and you didn’t want to imagine how far the man behind you was willing to go to prove that he won.

 “Right,” Ogundimu breathed and pushed your head to the hard wood of the table, his other hand wandering along your back to push your pants down. You wailed when you felt the cool air of the room against your backside, your arms flailing uselessly in the air beside you. There was nothing you could do to stop him, his grip was too strong. Your cheek hurt where it was pressed to the table, his cybernetic fingers cold and unyielding against your scalp.

 “Please don’t do this,” you gasped and Ogundimu leaned down to speak to you.

 “Maybe you can tell me if he’s telling the truth, hm?”

 Why was he so interested in knowing about all of this?

 “He–he said to me that,” you hiccuped, “that he needs my healing to feel something.”

 “Is that so?” Ogundimu sounded curious, his hand on your back massaging soothing circles into your muscles.

 Reaper scoffed. “And what if I said that?” His claws were scratching along the wood, you could hear it where your ear was pressed to the surface, loud and clear.

 “Tell me something, dear,” the man behind you said right next to your ear, “did you sleep with him?”

 Well, you wouldn’t describe being raped as sleeping with someone. But as far as technicalities went it had happened.

 You really didn’t want to admit it out loud, you trembled as you clenched your teeth together, staring straight ahead at Reaper who had the power to stop this at any moment if he so desired, but didn’t. And you wanted to scream at him, to ask him where his talk about you being his was now, why he wasn’t telling Ogundimu to back the fuck off.

 When you didn’t answer, the man behind you pressed his groin against your backside through your panties, reminding you that he was in control. “Tell me.”

 With jerky movements you nodded once, every fiber of your being repulsed at having to concede like this.

 Ogundimu chuckled. “I knew it,” he said, triumph sounding in his voice. “I knew it from that very first mission I had assigned her to you. That she was affecting you, the marks on her neck told me all about it.” He stopped the rubbing on your back. “But I’d have never guessed that it was because of her healing.” He sounded curious now, “Maybe I should sample it myself.”

 Suddenly he stepped away from you far enough to flip you over into your back, your hair half covered your face where it stuck to your wet cheek. Seeing him above you like this brought back the memories of what happened in the lab before Reaper had come to your room that night and you panicked.

 You tried to hit him with your fists where you could, but of course it didn’t help at all, your legs were trapped in your own pants between your knees, and he simply caught your wrists and pinned them above your head in his massive cybernetic first. You could hear the machinery whirring inside it.

 “Easy now,” he warned you darkly, all traces of mirth gone from his features. “I’m trying to let you up so you can dress yourself, alright?”

 You didn’t believe him, but nodded hesitantly anyway.

 Slowly, he let go of your wrists and pulled away three steps to give you space, he didn’t even look at you anymore, instead he watched Reaper whom you could only see from your peripheral as a dark shadow.

 Quickly, you got up and off the table, pulled up your pants and shakily ran a hand through your messy hair.

 Ogundimu had taken a seat in one of the chairs and beckoned you now.

 On wobbly legs you awkwardly crossed the distance and came to a halt in front of him. Reaper was behind you now, you couldn’t see him at all anymore, but Ogundimu could.

 “Come,” he said with a half smile and patted his lap. Uncertain, you looked from his legs up to his face, taking deep breaths to calm down your still racing heart. Cautiously you wanted to sit down across his legs, but he shook his head.

 With a scowl you straddled his lap instead, your hands coming to rest on your own thighs, balled to fists.

 “Good. Now, please show me how you heal someone.”

 You swallowed around a very dry throat, you could still feel his fist around it when you did.

 “It depends on where they’re hurt,” you answered meekly, unable to look him in the eyes.

 He hummed in thought. “Well, then show me where you healed our dear friend Gabriel.” Without having to check you knew that Ogundimu was looking at Reaper when he said that.

 With an internal sigh you raised your right arm, still slightly bluish in tint from that last episode  with Dr. O’Deorain and hesitantly touched his sternum through the dark red dress shirt he was wearing.

 You could feel the vibration of his chuckle. “There? That’s adorable,” he commented and you felt your cheeks burn in humiliation.

 You tried to ignore his warmth underneath your thighs and palm, instead closing your eyes and sending out a bit of healing. He didn’t react at first, but then he hummed in delight.

 “I can see how someone could enjoy this, but,” he grabbed your wrist gently with his flesh hand, “I believe it might be more... authentic without a barrier, wouldn’t you agree, dear?” He flashed one of his brilliant smiles and your stomach sunk. “Would you be so kind and help me with that?” His voice had lowered considerably as he motioned to his front, the air around you became warmer while you could swear that an icy wind was blowing against your back.

 With shaking fingers you clumsily fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, getting them open one by one, then you slightly pulled the two halves apart, revealing a powerful chest underneath that actually looked like it was straight from a bodybuilding magazine. It was almost ridiculous how ripped Ogundimu was.

 The blush on your cheeks deepened when he caught you staring, a small smirk played around his full lips.

 “Like what you see?” He murmured only for you, half lidded eyes looking down at you.

 “Maybe if it wasn’t you,” you answered in annoyance, then pressed your hand against his skin right in the same spot as before.

 Ogundimu laughed. “She’s feisty. I can see why you like her,” he said to Reaper again.

 His laughter faded quickly though when you sent out the strongest healing you were capable of, trying to get him to shut up for once.

 And he did. The only sound that he made was a grunt, his eyes closed seemingly of their own volition and his mouth went slack as he leaned his head back a fraction.

 You couldn’t help but feel proud in this moment. That your ability was that strong it rendered one of the most powerful men in the world speechless.

 Oh, but you hadn’t thought of how you had neglected your own body for a little too long now, these past few days had been nothing but malnourishment and lack of sleep. And you felt it in your bones now. Already your hand started slipping down the man’s chest, your head felt light and everything sounding more distant. Quickly, you stopped the healing output and drew your arm back to cradle it against your chest.

 You wanted to get up and off his lap too, but strong arms prevented you from getting further away. Instead, they pulled you closer and right into the man in front of you.

 “I need to lie down—” you wanted to say but plush lips on yours stopped you from finishing. Wide eyed you stared ahead, not able to focus on anything. When Ogundimu cradled your head in his hand you let out a weak whimper, eyes falling shut with fatigue.

 Between Ogundimu’s hands on you, you also felt that icy wind all around now, it made you shiver as it crept along your sides. Weakly, you opened your eyes and what you could finally focus on was a black swirling mist right behind Ogundimu, coalescing into the shape of Reaper.

 Red, burning embers shone brightly in the sockets of his mask, his fist rising. You were able to draw back right before he knocked Ogundimu over the head. The man slumped to the side and you hurriedly rushed off of his lap, wiping your mouth on the back of your hand.

 “You done?” Reaper growled, cracking his neck.

 “I…” you didn’t know what to say. This would have consequences, right? A man like Ogundimu would definitely not like being knocked out like that. “I need to get out of here,” you mumbled and rushed to the exit.

 Just as you opened the door Reaper stopped you, his claws digging into your upper arm. Wordlessly, he pulled you outside and dragged you through the hallways.

 You stumbled along, through doors and down stairs until you didn’t know where you were anymore, Reaper’s hold on you not budging. You were still feeling light headed from healing Ogundimu.

 “Wait,” you called out after a few minutes, breathing heavy, and tried to pull free. “Where are we going?”

 Reaper whirled around, his claws dug into your arm painfully. “We’re leaving.”

 “What?”

 He took a step towards you and lowered his voice. “What do you think will happen when Akande wakes up?” He crowded you against a nearby wall. Even though he was wearing his mask you were certain he was glaring at you.

 “I… I don’t know.”

 “Do you want to stick around and find out?”

 You trembled when you looked into the dark holes of his mask, did you want to stay at this Talon base and face Ogundimu’s wrath, or go with the man who had hurt and abused you many times already?

 It was like choosing between drowning or burning to death, really.

 “What about Caleb?” You whispered frantically. “I can’t leave when he’s still here, they’ll kill him… or worse.”

 Reaper’s hold on you loosened a little, then his hands fell away completely and he sighed.

 “Your little Overwatch comrade is not here.”

 What was he talking about?

 “What do you mean?”

 “He’s not here, we never had him.”

 Something inside you broke at that admission. They never had him? That was not possible.

 ”Liar!” You slid sideways along the wall, away from him. “You’re just saying that so I’ll come with you.”

 With a snarl Reaper grabbed at his mask, pulled it off and simply threw it on the ground. You flinched when it clanked against the tile of the hallway loudly.

 Seeing him maskless again was like a slap to the face, and you felt your knees buckle when the memories hit you from that night.

 “Look me in the eyes and tell me I’m lying,” he growled, his irises burning embers, face contorted in frustration.

 You didn’t know what to believe anymore, if what he said was true that would mean that everything you had done had been… totally unnecessary.

 You wouldn’t have had to work for Dr. O’Deorain.

 You wouldn’t have had to work for Ogundimu.

 And you wouldn’t have had to… submit to Reaper.

 Yes, he had used Caleb to get what he wanted as well. How were you supposed to know when he was lying or not?

 “Do you honestly think I would ever trust you, especially now that I know you’ve been lying to me?”

 Reaper frowned, eyes narrowing when he approached you again.

 “I’ll show you then,” he said and wanted to grab your wrist, but stopped mid-air, instead he turned and went down the nearby staircase.

 He just left you standing there, as if he knew you’d follow eventually.

 And you did, because… what else were you supposed to do? He was right, as soon as Ogundimu woke up there would be hell to pay. And you’d be his number one target to get to Reaper. He had just seen that the masked mercenary wasn’t someone who shared his toys.

 With a deep breath you collected yourself and quickly followed him down the stairs.

 His long coat was swishing behind him whenever he rounded a corner, his shoulders drawn and tense. Finally, you both reached the very bottom of the staircase, the heavy security door leading outside opened noiselessly for you and after another long corridor, and passing multiple guards, you reached a very nondescript looking pair of double doors.

 Reaper just went ahead as if he owned the place, which was probably at least partially true, whenever you studied the guards’ faces for any sign of trouble, they quickly averted their eyes; one of them even saluted. Reaper was a feared man. No wonder. Plus, they had definitely never seen his face before, even though it was partially hidden in the darkness of his hood.

 The last guard hurried to enter his access code into a brightly glowing terminal to grant you access to the holding cells.

 “Are you here often?” You asked Reaper when the heavy door behind you closed again. The way he had just waltzed in here spoke of some kind of routine. You wondered about the implications… Was he an interrogator or something equally sinister?

 “No,” he answered shortly while he moved to the side, gesturing to the three cells in front of you. “He’s not in here.”

 The small rooms all looked the same, each had a narrow bench, a sink, toilet and a cot crammed against the undecorated, bland walls. They looked just like the one from that security camera footage Ogundimu had shown you that first day you had been brought here.

 You took a cautious step forward, peering into the first cell with apprehension. Who would be in there and what state would they be in?

 But as you searched for a person you found... nothing. There was nobody in any of the cells. Startled, you whirled around.

 “There is no one here,” you stated the obvious.

 “Right. Now, let’s go.”

 “No. This can’t be all of the cells? Surely, Talon has more than three.”

 Reaper sighed. “Obviously not,” he ground out, frustration evident in his voice.

 “But–where is Caleb then?” This was impossible, you had seen the video. Had they been able to alter the footage? You had heard that these things were possible, but never thought you’d fall for them.

 Could it be he was… dead?

 “No clue. But he was never here”

 You just stood there, gaping at Reaper, who had his arms crossed in front of him again. Anger gnawed at you, how could they fool you like that, weren’t you smarter than that?

 So, what now?

 Your hesitation was interrupted by Reaper now finally grabbing your wrist and pulling you towards the exit.

 “We have to leave.” He sounded really urgent now, almost anxious. It was weird to see him like that, the usually so composed and unbothered man now reduced to this. Had you not been a part of it you would have laughed at his distress. But, well. You were a part of it, a crucial one at that, and you were in deep shit. Even more than usual.

 “Fine,” you yielded, tagging along once more.

 You left the holding cells under the curious eyes of the guards, when one of them made a weird face at seeing Reaper clutching your arm, you pulled it free of his grasp.

 “You still haven’t told me where we’re going,” you said when you were out of earshot.

 “Somewhere safe.”

 “Uh-huh. And that is where?”

 Visibly shaking in frustration, Reaper turned around to you. “Can you just shut up for one sec—” A loud alarm was sounding through speakers in the ceiling, interrupting him.

 You two were staring at each other, the realization that you were now wanted raising goosebumps on your arms. Heart in your throat, you didn’t hesitate when Reaper grabbed your arm once more and you both hurried along the halls and staircases until you finally reached a door that seemed to be an emergency exit.

 When Reaper ripped it open, a guard stood on the other side, who had just been talking into his earpiece and upon realizing who you were, fumbled for his gun.

 The next things were happening in such quick succession, you were not sure how you even managed to keep track.

 Reaper pushed you to the side, brought his arms in front of himself as if to cross them and reached into the folds of his coat. The dark mist was rising off of him so densely, you couldn’t see his face for a second. When he pulled out his hands from the blackness he was holding his shotguns in them. The guard was still trying to get a grip on his own gun when Reaper shot him point blank in the chest.

 You managed not to cry out in shock, even though he had been so close that it had felt like he’d shot you instead of the poor bastard who had been unfortunate enough to cross paths with Reaper.

 “Always said Max hires the most incompetent idiots,” he muttered to himself, then looked over his shoulder at you. “Come on.”

 Without looking at the man torn to pieces on the floor, you followed Reaper into an underground garage that seemed to be deserted.

 You passed many fancy looking hover cars until Reaper stopped before a bulky one that was definitely armored. He pushed you towards the car door.

 “Get in,” he urged and you quickly went for the handle. The door opened with a swish, but just as you wanted to climb in, Reaper held you back. “Sorry, mariquita,” he rasped against your ear, “but for this part I need you to sleep a little.”

 You felt a prick on your neck and a cool substance entering your bloodstream, the last thing you could remember was how the world tilted when you fell forward onto the car seat and everything went black.

***

 You came to in a small room, it was semi dark and quiet. A pounding headache was making itself known when you blinked a few times.

 What had happened? The last thing you remembered was how Reaper had pushed you into the armored car.

 Oh shit, you were somewhere off base. He kidnapped you.

 With a jolt you sat upright on the duvet of the bed. When you looked around you realized that you were in some kind of log cabin, wooden walls and furnishings gave it away. It was very rustic, outdated even. A stale smell of dust and earthly moisture was in the air, not very pleasant.

 You winced when the pain in your head pounded angrily at you for sitting up so quickly.

 Carefully, you shifted to the edge of the bed and put your feet on the ground, the room spun a little, but you managed to get it under control with a few deep breaths.

 Where the hell had Reaper brought you, and where was he anyway? All you knew was that he was going to pay for drugging you like that.

 Not far away was the door, it looked so inviting, you just had to check. Slowly, you got up and tip-toed over, your heart beating a little faster. Unconsciously holding your breath you tried the handle and–the door was locked. Even though you had expected it, it was still so disappointing.

 Next to the door was a window with the curtains drawn, a sliver of light fell through the gaps. When you pulled them aside you saw trees and bushes, the setting sun filtering through the leaves, nothing else. Shit, so you really were in the woods?!

 You couldn’t even open the window to climb outside, there were iron bars out in front, probably to prevent looters or bears from entering. Who knew, you hadn’t ever been in one of those log cabins before.

 With a sigh you opened the widow to let in some fresh air, it smelled really nice at least and you stood there a little longer, trying to see something beyond the many pines. It was so quiet here, the only sounds you could discern were that of a woodpecker and the wind in the trees.

 What would happen once Reaper came back? What if he didn’t come at all... and you were left here…

 A violent shiver ran through you. Somehow both options sounded terrible.

 You moved away from the window and into the small kitchenette across the room that consisted of a fridge, a sink and a small camping burner on a narrow counter. The fridge contained nothing but air, it wasn’t even running. The cabinets above revealed the same, layers of dust and mouse droppings. You slammed them shut in disgust.

 Besides the small kitchen and the bed you’d woken up in, there was only a rackety looking table with a single chair crammed into the corner and a small fireplace.

 The entire place had seen better days, the floor was covered in dust and dirt and cobwebs hung from the low ceiling.

 There was a small broom leaning against the wall of the fireplace, among other utensils for tending to the fire.

 There was nothing else you could do, so you picked up the broom with the bent bristles and started sweeping the wooden floor. Ash and dust swirled up, the few sunbeams peeking through the small single window made it look like they were dancing. Occasionally you had to sneeze, but you kept going and gathered the dirt in a pile.

 Just as you checked around the room to see if you missed a spot, you heard the crunching of leaves and gravel caused by heavy footsteps through the open window. Reaper had returned after all.

 Carefully, you put the broom back. The lock clicked and then Reaper swung the door inwards. The resulting wind blew your small dirt pile over your feet.

 He was wearing something else now, not his usual leather cloak or armor, it was a black hoodie with the hood drawn over his head and dark blue combat pants. The sight startled you, you’d never seen him look so... casual before. He almost looked normal if it hadn’t been for the red glowing eyes and ashen skin.

 With crossed arms you faced him. “What is this place?” You didn’t beat around the bush, even though you were terrified of what the future held for you.  

 Reaper still stood in the doorway, carrying something in his arms. With a casual kick he closed the door behind him, then moved to the kitchen. You noted how he didn’t lock the door again. His heavy boots thudded dully on the floorboards. He dropped a brown paper bag onto the counter and started removing items from it, mostly cans and bottles.

 “This used to be my getaway when I was still–” he broke off, faltered when he put down another can, “–before I joined Talon.” He picked up a water bottle and held it out to you.

 You eyed him in suspicion, but you were thirsty, now that you thought about it you were parched. Quickly, you went to him and grabbed the proffered bottle, took a few steps back and downed half of it in one go.

 “What did you give me anyway?” You felt a little nauseous as you idly rubbed the spot of the injection at your neck.

 “It was just a small dosage of tranquilizer, its side-effects should wear off soon,” he said offhandedly, putting the cans into the cabinets while he spoke.

 You waited until he was finished and turned around to you again.

 “Let me go.”

 Silence stretched between you, he was leaning against the kitchen counter while you had taken on quite an aggressive stance. He didn’t react much besides tilting his head back a fraction to look down his nose at you, his mouth in a permanent frown.

 “Alright.”

 You stood stock-still, not daring to breathe. Had you heard right?

 “W–What?”

 “You can go,” he elaborated, crossing his arms in front of himself.

 “You’re shitting me.”

 “I’m not. You can go if you can find your way out of the forest.”

 Fuck him.

 “Fuck you. Take me away from here and somewhere safe.” You’ve had enough. This would be your last stand.

 “We are safe right here.”

 “You know what I mean. I want to go home.” Your voice broke on the last word, emotion was causing your vocal chords to waver. Damn him for giving you hope like that.

 “Home?” He sounded skeptical. His clothes rustled when he moved away from the counter and towards you. His footsteps pounded in the rhythm of the pain in your head. You didn’t look up as he approached you, you just waited for his feet to appear in front of you.

 “If that is what you want.”

 You did look up at him now.

 “Since when does it matter what I want?” You couldn’t help but feel bitter.

 His red eyes searched yours, the expression on his face may have been his usual frown, but there was something else underneath it; a sadness you were only now able to detect. Was he trying to make you feel bad, guilty? Well, it was not working.

 “What are you implying?” His voice had become a little quieter.

 You scoffed at him, incredulous.

 “Ever since I had the misfortune of meeting you I have been subjected to the worst shit I’ve ever had to endure. And not just from you, no...but you really took the cake.”

 You watched his eyes narrow the longer you went on.

 “And all this time I tried to just make it through, with the little bit of hope left that maybe, maybe Overwatch will help. Maybe they come and find me, Lena, Winston, anyone. To make this nightmare end.” You had to stop a second to take a breath, Reaper was still quietly standing in front of you, arms crossed once more. “But obviously you people at Talon are great at hiding in plain sight, I bet you even made it look like nobody survived that explosion, just like you swindled me into thinking that Caleb was still alive and in your custody.”

 “Overwatch is not coming.”

 “I know that, okay?!” You screamed at him now, tears of rage had gathered in your eyes.

 “Remember what I told you about them. They don’t care for you, they are still the same people from before. The same big children playing war with the help of their private soldiers.”

 “That’s not true!” You couldn’t stand to hear this again, you knew that Overwatch was so much more than that, had seen first hand all the good you’d done all over the globe. “You’re just still salty about what happened to you.”

 “Careful,” he warned you, voice gravelly.

 But you’d had it, there was no going back now. The two of you were having this conversation and you would tell him everything that’s been on your mind and had been too afraid to say.

 “No, I’m done. I’m... so tired of it all. Of constantly being afraid, of always having to tip-toe around your big egos.” You waved your hands in the air to emphasize your point. “Men like you can’t take any form of criticism without throwing a fit.”

 Reaper took a step towards you and you moved one back.

 “Men like me?”

 “Yes, you’re all the same. Ogundimu and you, none of you can take no for an answer.”

 His eyes had started burning brighter than before, a shadow had fallen over his face. “Don’t compare me to Akande,” he growled, stepping even further into your personal space and you yielded.

 “I’ll compare you to whatever the hell I want,” you didn’t budge on your stance even though he was crowding you against a wall.

 Were you scared? Yes, shitless. But were you going to shut up? Not in the foreseeable future it seemed.

 What did you have to lose now? There was no Caleb dangling above your head, Reaper had nothing. And your own well being you stopped caring for after having your free will stripped away. But you were taking it back now, whatever the cost.

 Reaper was standing mere centimeters away, your chests were almost touching as he was looking down at you, his black mist slowly rising from the depths of his hood.

 His hand came up and towards your face, you flinched because you thought he was finally going to hit you for your insolence. But he didn’t even touch you, he drew the hand back as if he’d burned himself.

 “Are you done insulting me yet?”

 You blinked at him.

 “Did you get it all off your chest?”

 Taking a breath you wanted to keep going, but he interrupted you.

 “You should eat something,” he finally finished, then pulled away to give you space again.

 “I don’t want to eat, I want to leave.”

 “You will eat first. Want to collapse in the middle of the forest?”

 Grumbling under your breath you pushed off the wall and towards the kitchen. Since when was he that considerate, was he actually going to help you get away?

 You leaned against the counter while he opened a can of ravioli and put it on the burner.

 Neither of you spoke as he was stirring the can with a spoon, even though there was still so much more you wanted to say.

 After a few minutes he turned the burner off and wordlessly set the can with the steaming ravioli on the counter next to you, spoon still inside.

 “Don’t...you want any?” You asked hesitantly, not sure how you felt about being served food by Reaper of all people.

 “I don’t eat,” he stated matter-of-factly.

 “You don’t–what? How do you even live?”

 He tilted his head to the side, raising one brow. “I don’t.”

 You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous statement and decided against opening that can of worms.

 “... doesn’t live…” you shoveled the mushy ravioli into your mouth and mumbled to yourself between spoonfuls. At this point you were convinced that he was saying things to mess with your head.

 The food was awful, but at the same time heavenly on your empty stomach. There was only a little food left in the can when you addressed him again.

 “So when I’m finished, you’ll take me out of here?” You would not forget what he said earlier.

 “Under one condition,” he said gravely, the doughy pasta almost got stuck in your throat when you tried to swallow it.

 “...which is?” Oh, how you hated the suspense. Already the ravioli sat like a rock in your stomach.

 He made sure you were paying attention before continuing.

 “You spend one last night with me.”

 The spoon clattered loudly on the table, scattering tomato sauce everywhere.

 “No,” you answered automatically, moving away from the counter and creating more space between you two.

 There was no way you were going to do this again, especially under the pretense of consent.

 Reaper didn’t seem surprised by your outburst, he must have assumed you’d react in such a fashion. His eyes were flat when he slowly began moving.

 “Why not, have I not been good to you?” He was talking so calmly, reassuringly, while moving towards you.

 Was he fucking serious?

 You tried to keep the distance intact, but there was the wall behind you again, damn but this hut was too small.

 “Good to me?” You wanted to sound outraged, but it came out more like a squeak.

 He carried on. “Did I leave you wanting?” You didn’t like how his voice dropped into that purr, the way he carried himself when he approached you.

 “Don’t you dare say that.” He had      hurt     you. He acted like what had happened had been some sort of romantic encounter?!

 Your pulse sped up when you felt the immovable wood against your back while Reaper was still advancing. Cornered once more, the story of your life.

 “S–Stop!”

 But he kept coming until he could reach out to gently brush a stray lock of hair out of your face and behind your ear.

 “You’re hurting my feelings, mariquita. Did you not enjoy yourself?” He murmured while his fingers brushed along your jaw and down your neck. You hated how his touch was not just revolting to you anymore, but it stirred something else deep inside. Somehow your brain was the only one remembering how traumatizing your last night together had been, your body seemed to only focus on how he had managed to make you come undone.

 The sheer indignation you felt at his words that caused too many insults and accusations to want to come out all at once rendered you speechless.

 When you didn’t answer he leaned further in, his breath tickled your ear when he spoke next. “Have I not been a generous lover?”

 Oh god, you could feel the heat spread from your belly further outward, into your chest and also lower. A blush was forming on your cheeks while listening to his sensual deep voice telling you these intimate things.

 “Shut up,” you whispered, trying in vain to get your reaction under control. His hands fell to your sides, holding your hips in place while he pressed a knee between your legs, pushing it against you as he had done before.

 The sensation made you gasp.

 “You know I can please you, hermosa,” he said heatedly against your neck.

 Ugh. Yeah he was right, he was so well endowed and knew how to use what he’d been given, it had been nothing short of amazing, but at the same time you still hated this man’s guts for forcing it upon you. And for trying to do it again.

 But what were you supposed to do? If you didn’t accept, well, would he still do it? Probably. It was as you’d said; he couldn’t take no for an answer. So there was only one thing you could do.

 You swallowed the lump in your throat, drew back until you could see his face again.

 “Promise... promise you’ll let me go.” You didn’t even recognize your own voice in that moment, it sounded so small and broken.

 “I promise,” he hissed breathlessly against your face.

 Your eyes searched his endlessly red ones, for what you didn’t even know... the truth, for lies? Whatever it was, you didn’t find it. But there was nothing you could do besides accepting. As foolish as it sounded, you had to try everything to get back home.

 After what felt like an eternity of simply staring at him you finally surrendered, closed your eyes and nodded.

 With your breath held you anticipated his next move now that you had given him permission, but nothing happened. Tentatively, you cracked an eye open and tried to see what he was waiting for.

 When he saw that you were looking at him, he took a small step backwards, lifted his arms and pulled off his hoodie. Underneath he wore a simple grey t-shirt that accentuated his physique just right. Quickly, you averted your eyes again, feeling uncomfortable all of a sudden. The blush on your cheeks came back full force when he went for his shirt as well.

 You didn’t know what to do, yes you had agreed to it but actually doing it was something completely different.

 But as you were contemplating, Reaper moved forward again, his fingers tilting your head up by the chin so you had to look him in the face.

 “Kiss me,” he murmured in his deep, smoky voice while focusing on your mouth. As if on its own, your tongue darted out to wet your lips in a nervous habit. His pupils dilated as he watched you, and your pulse spiked in reaction.

 Uncertain, you moved your head forward a fraction, trying to close the distance between you. As you got closer, your eyes started to flutter shut, after that you followed the smell of him and the warmth he was exuding.

 His hand had fallen away from your chin about half-way, but now that you pressed your lips to his, it came back up to cradle your cheek instead. His other hand brushed along your arm, down to your wrist and pulled it up to his chest to lay your palm against his pectoral.

 As soon as he did that, you knew what he wanted. And you gave it to him.

 You sent out healing strong enough to mend a big flesh wound, and just as you had anticipated he gasped against your mouth. He had not expected you to go all in at once. Maybe if you overpowered him with your healing he would forget about everything else...

Or this could go horribly wrong and the exact opposite might happen.

 Before you could muse on it any more, Reaper licked over your lips, pushing them open gently, sensually. He was really good at this, at making you forget that you should be afraid–although he was even better at reminding you that you      should     be. You shuddered at the memory of him above you in the semi dark of your room and how his demonic eyes had burned brightly when he had pushed into you.

 You closed your eyes so you could pretend this was somebody else, someone who cared about you, genuinely loved you. And not because they liked to use your abilities whenever they felt like it.

 His wicked tongue didn’t even feel that foreign anymore as it explored your mouth in its unhurriedness. It even managed to coax your own to move against him until you were actually kissing him back in much the same way.

 The kiss you were sharing was so intense it made your head spin and weak in the knees, but fortunately Reaper was already stepping right into you before you collapsed, his hands on your waist and thigh, and wrapped one of your legs around his hips. He pushed you up and finally your other leg around him, holding you against the wall and above the ground with his body. All the while he was kissing you senseless so you hadn’t even really noticed what he had done until you felt him pressed against you so closely.

 A small whimper escaped you when he squeezed your thighs, then he drew back from the kiss, eyes half-lidded and heavy.

 Reaper studied you for just a second, then snaked his arm around your back and moved  away from the wall with you wrapped around him. Hastily, you broke off the healing stream and brought your arms behind his neck in order to not fall backwards.

 It felt like you were betraying yourself, as if all the resistance you’d put up in the past had been a game that you two had played. That you had secretly wanted this all along and had simply played hard to get.

 You forcefully reminded yourself that this would be the last time, the very last time this happened, whether he was telling the truth or not.

 The trip over to the bed was a very brief one, already he was lowering you onto the soft surface, his knees between your legs and propped up on his arms above you.

 His fingers were touching your cheek, following the contour of your bottom lip, then immediately he leaned back in to kiss you again, while his hands explored your body. This time it was him who divested you of your shirt and bra, his big hands on your bare skin were leaving you shivering.

 Soon he had pulled off his pants, you got a glimpse of his erection from the corner of your eyes when he had surged back in to slot your mouths together once more. He pushed it against your thigh, letting you get a feel.

 “This is what you do to me,” he groaned, fingers playing with the waistband of your pants.

 Suddenly he paused.

 Wary of his unexpected hesitation, you searched his eyes. They were so dark and their pupils dilated when he whispered to you, “May I?”

 Your throat closed at his question. Really, was he going to pretend that this was anything more than you agreeing to something in order to get home? He really wanted you to fake your consent even more, humiliate you. Like you hadn’t already agreed to this.

 “A little late to act like a gentleman now, isn’t it?” You couldn’t keep the bite out of your voice.

 Reaper simply chuckled at that, took it as affirmation apparently, and pulled the fabric down and off of your legs.

 Your heart beat frantically when he parted your legs for him to get in between, propped up on his elbows and dangerously close to your core. He held your gaze with his as he brushed along the inside of one of your thighs, raising goosebumps in the wake of his fingers. When he touched your folds you closed your eyes and released the breath you’d been holding.

 “Look at me, marquita,” he commanded in his low voice. You forced yourself to open your eyes again and watched as he was slowly lowering his head to kiss you between your legs. You exhaled shakily at the feeling of his warm breath and lips against you. Already he started to use his tongue, its wet and slippery surface felt foreign against your nether lips.

 Reaper hummed in delight when he licked over your clit experimentally and you couldn’t keep the small moan from escaping. He was still making eye contact with you when he ventured further downward and traced around your entrance with the tip of his tongue.

 It was hard to keep your eyes on him like this when all you wanted to do was to hide. The blush on your cheeks was burning hotter than ever, one of your arms flew up to cover your mouth with the back of your hand when he licked inside of you. He moaned obscenely at tasting you like this and even his own eyes were fluttering shut.

 He swirled his tongue back upwards and around to stimulate every part he could possibly reach, it felt so incredibly good, you sighed and moaned with every flick of his tongue.

 His ministrations were so careful, so gentle, you were starting to relax. As your muscles unclenched and stopped quivering, your legs fell open the rest of the way. Reaper took this as an invitation to finally start tenderly sucking your clit, elevating your pleasure to the next level.

 “Oh god–,” you gasped when he’d done it, but quickly bit down on your hand instead to stifle your outburst.

 “Hmm, let me hear you,” he purred in between suckling and nipping at your sensitive nub.

 You still tried to keep it down, which proved to be increasingly difficult with the way he was working you now. His mouth was moving faster, a little harder against you, sharp teeth dangerously grazing against your skin while his hands had started to stroke your thighs, up and down.

 He was playing you like an instrument, every single touch served the greater purpose of bearing you to him further, opening you up completely. You quickly got lost in the sensations, everything he did felt incredibly good. So good, you didn’t want it to stop.

 Now that was a scary thought.

 His mouth briefly left you before he surged back in and you felt another touch, slowly stroking around your entrance. Reaper pushed a single finger inside you and it just slipped in without any resistance, you were so wet from his expert oral stimulation.

 Oh shit, this was really doing it for you. This was exactly as you liked it, how could he know this, you had only spent one night together.

 His finger pumped in and out of you slowly, in just the right angle that had you mewling into the back of your hand.

 “I wanna hear you,” Reaper reminded you after stopping for just the small second it took to utter these words, and then kept at it again, but you were too occupied with trying to comprehend what was happening to you.

 Just a little longer and you would come.

 Just a little–

 With one last long lick he pulled away completely, the cry of disappointment you made got stuck in your throat as you tried to suppress it unsuccessfully.

 It frightened you how close you’d come to begging in that instance…

 Reaper’s look of mild amusement he’d had before had disappeared, and it filled you with dread once more.

 “I said,” he rasped as he took a hold of your arms, pulling you up to his level so you sat in his lap, “I want to hear you.”

 His dick was brushing against your inner thigh, almost touching your sex. You couldn’t help yourself, nervously you glanced down and were reminded again of just how big he was, how much it had hurt the first time he’d entered you.

 You swallowed drily.

 “I–I’m...,” sorry you wanted to whisper, not sure why you were trying to apologize, but feeling that it was what he wanted at that moment. But you steered clear of it, you had nothing to be sorry for. “...okay.” You chose to say instead.

 He studied you for a little while, his hard grip on your arms loosening, and idly stroking them instead. That spark of mischief entered his eyes once more, a small smirk played around his lips.

 Slowly he dipped his head to brush his mouth over yours, his beard was tickling you.

 “Did you like that?” He breathed against you, taking your bottom lip between his teeth and nipping it playfully.

 Why was he talking so damn much?

 There was no point in lying, but even as you nodded you wondered how your previous reactions could have been interpreted as anything but enjoyment. Again, he wanted you to confirm things you’d rather not. What an ass.

 “You want to know what I like?” He gave you a brief kiss before leaning back and pulling you atop of himself. You held yourself up with your hands on both sides of his head. His erection was now firmly pressed against your ass. He was still smirking when he continued. “A pretty girl riding my dick.”

 Your inner walls clenched at his crude words, combined with the feeling of his hard member poking your bottom, it made your entire body blush.

 He really wanted you to take an active role in this, huh?

 His hands were going over your back and further down to grab your ass to guide it against his cock, rubbing it between your soaked folds. Your arms buckled where you were still trying to hold yourself above him, your breath coming in short gasps.

 He groaned at the feeling of his cock slicking up with your juices.

 You were starting to hyperventilate.

 “W–wait, I’m…” You couldn’t take him yet! You were not prepared, you didn’t want it to hurt like last time. “I need…please…”

 You were… crying, why were you crying? He wasn’t even doing anything yet.

 It was just like the first time he did this to you, even though you weren’t held down or at gunpoint, he managed to hold you captive, to force you to do anything he desired.

 “Shh,” he was comforting you, calloused thumb wiping away your tears. “Calm down.”

 You sobbed.

 And then there were lips on yours, kissing away the tears that had run into your mouth, stealing away their saltiness and replacing it with Reaper’s own taste, a far more pleasant one if you were being honest.

 The kiss turned from soothing to passionate in just a few seconds. His hands were roaming over your back in gentle circles, pressing your bodies together and into the most intimate embrace you’d shared yet.

 You just wanted to forget about where you were and especially who you were with in that moment, you closed your burning eyes and kissed him until you were short of breath.

 With eyes almost as red as his, you were looking at him, his fingers still stroking you softly.

 There was no time to dwell on the feelings this embrace had just evoked, how Reaper had been able to comfort you with a single kiss. You knew you’d go crazy if you thought about it any longer. It was time to get this over and done with. Fuck it, this might as well hurt.

 You sniffed once, pushed yourself up on shaking arms and wiped away the remaining moisture from your lashes. With determination you got up on your knees and shimmied back a little to line yourself up with his straining erection. One of your hands took a hold of it to guide it into yourself.

 Oh, you really should have prepared…fuck, he was stretching you impossibly wide. You had to stop for a moment to catch your breath. With both hands on Reaper’s chest, you closed your eyes in concentration, willing your body to relax. But it was just so much to take in. You lifted up a fraction and sank down another centimeter, trying to keep your breathing under control.

 Gritting your teeth against the pain and stretch you pushed yourself and took him the rest of the way.

 Trembling like a leaf, hands balled into fists against his skin, you tried to accommodate to his girth. Your head hung low, hair falling around your face like a curtain.

 You could feel your heartbeat both in your chest and where he was nestled between your legs.

 Reaper’s hand gently cradled your face in his palm, tilting your head up to look at him. Once more his thumb brushed over your parted lips, dipping inside to press onto your tongue and you could only stare at the sea of his red eyes burning with the intensity of hellfire. Drool was running down your chin and Reaper’s fingers, but you didn’t really notice it, too occupied with the feeling of being filled so completely.

 Reaper’s lips were parted as well when he watched his finger disappear into the cavern of your mouth. His other hand had landed on your butt, squeezing it once before pushing you down onto him while elevating his hips at the same time.

 Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull when he moved inside you, a sob racked your body and then, as if on autopilot your lips closed around the digit in your mouth, sucking on it softly.

 Reaper groaned loudly. “That’s it, hermosa.” His jaw clenched when you moved tentatively, just rotated your hips to get more comfortable. “Hnng, yes.”

 It was fascinating–in a morbid kind of way–to watch his reactions; how he sighed when you lifted up and sunk back down, the way he closed his eyes in bliss when you ground against him with short thrusts or how his grip on you faltered when you scratched over his chest with your nails as you started to feel the effects of having him inside of you.

 Slowly, the friction of his dick against your inner walls was starting to feel good. Relief was making you bold, you threw your head back and released a moan when you managed to find the right angle.

 Immediately, his hands travelled to your breasts, kneading them and playing with your nipples. It only heightened your pleasure, spurring you on and increasing the speed with which you were moving.

 All the emotions you’d felt in the last couple of days were warring within you. Hurt, despair, pleasure, hope... all of them were mixed together into a potent cocktail burning in your chest and threatening to spill out at any moment.

 You felt your orgasm approach with a vengeance, it promised to pull you under with its intensity.

 And intense it was. You screamed when you came, clutching at Reaper wherever you could, holding on for dear life.

 Still breathing heavily, you opened your eyes and found you were lying on his chest, his normally slow heartbeat much quicker against your ear. You wanted to push away, but couldn’t move more than your eyes.

 Reaper kissed the top of your head, then the world was spinning as your cheek was now pressed against a pillow and you lay face down on the bed.

 He positioned you so you were on your knees, ass in the air and head low. A short moment of panic made you whimper in distress, but Reaper put his big hand onto the small of your back, effectively keeping you in place.

 He was pushing into you from behind, and even though you had become somewhat accustomed to his girth, you still gasped when he had bottomed out.

 One of his hands was gripping your hip, the other was sliding into your hair and pushing your head into the pillow, then he draped himself over you to speak into your ear.

 “I’ll make sure Akande will never touch you again.” He was referring to the incident in the briefing room. The memory of being held in this exact position by Ogundimu made you shiver. “You have no idea–” he started pounding into you, hard and fast, and you whined with the force of it against your sensitive nerves. “–how much I wanted to kill him when he did.”

You and me both, you wanted to say but couldn’t answer because he was fucking you in earnest now, took away your ability to form coherent sentences.

 With gritted teeth you fisted the sheets, bracing against his thrusts. Between your nerves shooting rapid fire signals to your brain and your conscious slightly worrying about Reaper’s promise contradicting what he just said, you felt a second orgasm coming. It sent you over the edge once more and into blissful oblivion for a few seconds, a dry sob the only sound you made.

 Reaper had hauled you even closer as he was brutally pistoning in and out of you until, finally, he stilled, buried deep inside of you, spilling his release.

 For a few seconds nothing happened.

 Then, Reaper pulled out of you and you collapsed onto the bed.

 Was it… over?

 You didn’t know what time it was, but judging from the darkness that had slowly crept over the room you guessed it was nighttime.

 You felt him against your side, the warmth radiating off of him was stifling. With one arm he turned you around and towards him. You stared with drooping eyes at his scarred chest instead of his face.

 He pressed you against him, tucking your head underneath his chin, and somehow it was this act of intimacy that was crossing a line for you. With your arms in front you pushed away from his chest.

 “Alright…” you had to clear your throat. “I did what you wanted.” A small sniff gave away your uncertainty, the fear that now you’d done his bidding it was time for him to tell you it had all been a bluff.

 “Night’s not over, mariquita.”  

 You glared at him. He really had the nerve to smirk.

 “You’re still gonna–” you had to stop when his fingertips brushed over your ribs and over a nipple, tickling you and raising gooseflesh in its wake. “–gonna get me out of here.”

 When he didn’t respond, you grabbed his wrist to stop his wandering hand, forcing him to acknowledge you.

 His eyes flashed when you’d touched him, the smirk on his face morphing into a sly grin that showed off his sharp teeth.

 “What if I don’t?”

  What?  

 “Oh, no! No, you will!” You exclaimed. “You promised!”

 “Show me how much you want it, then,” he purred, “I’m all yours, hermosa.”  

 You sunk back a fraction, taken aback by his words. What did he want you to do? You’d already taken an active role in this, and now he was asking for even more. He was insatiable.

 “But I…”

 “What do you want to do to me?” He murmured and leaned back, one hand going behind his head, confident that you’d play along.

 Oh, there were several things you wanted to do to him, but none of them were going in the direction he was hoping.

 “I want…” you trailed off, eyes squinting at where you were still holding his wrist somehow. As you were thinking of all the things that had happened to you, all the abuse you’d suffered, there really was only one thing coming to mind.

 “I want to hurt you.”

 There, you said it. What was he going to say to that? With a challenge in your eyes you sized him up.

 You could see his pupils dilate, then he pulled his arm towards himself and you with it until you sat straddled on his abdomen, because you were not letting go. Why weren’t you letting go?

 “Then hurt me,” he whispered heatedly, offering his throat in surrender.

 Shit, this was… not what you’d anticipated to happen. What could you even do to hurt him? He was a wraith, whatever the fuck that meant.

 “I’m a healer,” you said more to yourself than him, trying to come up with anything to get out of this situation that was growing uncomfortable very fast.

 “Yes, and look what I did to you,” he goaded, letting the arm that was still in your grip fall limp. “I tricked you,” he went on, that fire in his eyes burning just a little brighter. “I lied and deceived you. Took advantage of you.”

 So he really wanted you to lash out? Somehow you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of giving into his obvious taunt, but your grip on his wrist was tightening in fury. He was right, he had done all those things. And they were all things you hated him for, really wanted to retaliate.

 “You took everything from me,” you whispered, your throat closing up in anger and sadness. Something in his expression changed at that, but you couldn’t discern what it was.

 “I have,” he answered quietly, “Because you’re mine.”

 You backhanded him, and watched his head snap to the side with it, the small smile temporarily knocked off his face.

 “I’m not fucking yours,” you spat at him.

 “Yeah you are, mariquita.”  

 “Stop calling me that!”

 “Never.”

 You punched him in the jaw, the impact rattled your bones painfully, but the satisfaction at seeing the surprise in his eyes had been worth it.

 Blood was spreading on his lips where they split, and he grinned at you, the red liquid had already coated those pearly whites as well.

 “Was that all?” he asked, licking at the blood on his mouth.

 You saw red, and with a cry you wrapped both your hands around his throat. The muscles and tendons were moving under your palms, you squeezed as hard as you could.

 His smirk was not diminishing, but his eyes were closing, the endless sea of red pulsing with his heartbeat that you felt where you had your hands wrapped tightly around his neck.

 Your grip was not loosening, his smirk had disappeared as his mouth was open and drawing shallow breaths while you watched his features, now pressing down on his windpipe with your whole upper body.

 He groaned, closed his eyes and breathed “Go on, kill me. Put me out of my misery.”

 Was this what you were doing? He cannot be killed, you remembered, but wished that it weren’t true. If only you could, physically and mentally… you weren’t sure. You’d actually never killed anyone before, and had hoped you’d never have to. But could you make an exception to that now? It’s what he deserved, after all. For taking away the family and friends you’d found in Overwatch, your freedom, your dignity.  

 “Then die,” you sobbed, tears were running down your face and dropping onto your fingers that were white-knuckled. It was what he deserved.

 What he…

 ...deserved.

 You leaned back, relieving the pressure on his neck.

  Looks like I can’t do it, you though and hung your head.  

 That was when you felt his hands on your thighs, idly stroking along the outside, his grip becoming stronger by the second now that you weren’t strangling him anymore. Your own hands were just resting against his skin now, your whole body trembled.

 Reaper brushed his hands up your sides, over your arms and into your hair, pulled you down and kissed you hungrily, the metallic taste of his blood shocking to your senses.

 He easily reversed your positions and sunk inside you while still devouring your mouth with his own.

 The night was far from over, he fucked you so many times you lost count, but he made sure you came every single time. You passed out sometime in the morning hours before the sun came up with his head between your thighs once more, your exhaustion finally catching up.

***

 The sun was shining when you two stopped at the edge of the forest. It was a beautiful day and you felt giddy at the prospect of being free.

 The entire way from the cottage through the forest Reaper hadn’t spoken to you, hadn’t uttered a single word and you’d been grateful for that because you weren’t sure you’d have been able to answer. The only thing on your mind had been freedom.

 Walking had proven to be quite difficult after last night’s activities and you got the distinct feeling that it had been his intention of making sure you’d feel him for a week at least.

 But as you stood there now, the trees behind you and a road in front, something held you back. Maybe it was still the thought of being trapped, of them having Caleb that kept you in place, glued to Reaper’s side. It was just too good to be true.

 A question was burning in the back of your mind, ever since last night.

 “Why are you letting me go?”

 Reaper was wearing his black hoodie again, hood drawn over his head and veiling a part of his face.

 “Shit,” he sighed after a moment. “I don’t know.” He kicked at a pine cone. “It’s just that… everything I touch… I kill,” he said after turning to you again. “And I don’t want you… to die.”

 You didn’t know what to say to that, but it stirred some      weird     feelings you did not want to acknowledge at this point. So instead, you looked at your own feet, stuffed your hands into your pant’s pockets and just nodded jerkily.

 Silence stretched between you and you wondered if you were supposed to say something… thank you? No way.

 “So, um…” you swallowed drily, “I guess I’ll be going then?” Your heart beat like a rabbit’s, afraid he might change his mind.

 “If you follow the road for about two miles you’ll find a small village with a shop and a phone,” he said in a gravelly tone, gazing into the direction he had just mentioned. He looked so… defeated.

 “Okay,” you said breathlessly, practically vibrating with the urge to get going.

 When he didn’t elaborate, you took a step and set foot on the road, walking slowly at first.

 “Remember what I said about Overwatch,” he called after you, but you were already walking faster, faster until you broke into a run. You didn’t dare look over your shoulder in fear of seeing him following you.

 You ran as fast as you could, tears streaming from your eyes, carried away by the wind blowing around your nose. You were free, free. Adrenaline was urging you along, any fatigue you might have felt blown away.

 When you reached the city limits you almost collapsed, sobbing in relief.