Chapter Text
“How’s the perimeter looking, agent?”
Winston’s voice piped into your ear with characteristic positivity, and you smiled, looking up from your position.
“Clear,” you replied. “The payload’s going to have a clear run tomorrow.”
“Excellent. Have you placed the charges?”
“Yessir. Route 66 correctly primed and ready for the mission.”
“Return to base when you’re ready, agent.”
“Over and out, Winston.”
You took a look down at the desolate, sunburnt landscape below you and heaved a sigh, hefting your gun. You had to admit, Route 66 looked better at night.
Still looked like shit though.
“This is the Route 66 Deployment, calling Watchpoint for air retrieval. Do you have my co-ordinates?”
“Roger that, Agent. We’ve got a bird 2 minutes out. Hold still.”
Your eyes scanned the roads below.
“What a shithole.”
“Oh, I know.”
Your spine stiffened, skin going cold. There was someone else here with you, and you were sure you’d heard that voice before. You spun around.
Reaper was stalking towards you.
You started, eyes darting wildly around for somewhere to run. You were at the tail end of a rocky outcrop. The only other exit, a 200 foot drop.
Fight then.
You were blasting bullets at the Reaper in seconds as you stood your ground, unable to retreat and with no way of advancing. Your heart pounded in your chest as he dodged one, two, three rounds, still coming at you. A moment later the black mist whipped out at you and you leapt away, your foot landing inches from the ledge. With no choice, you threw yourself forward, and when you stopped falling, you were caught.
Reaper’s mist hung around your arms and legs, supporting your stomach, an almost gentle, cold caress of shifting black that made your pulse stop in fear.
“I’ve got a few questions for you, agent,” he growled, and then the smoke was wrapping around you, suffocating you.
The world faded.
You woke in a dimly-lit room, your head pounding. With gentle, pained noises, you looked up, squinting in the dark to see if you were alone.
“You finally open your eyes.”
Your head whipped around to find the voice that had spoken, gaze falling upon the black-clad Talon operative in the corner. You felt shudders down your spine at the sight of the impassive white mask, and hurriedly looked away, tugging your hands. They were firmly restrained above your head and you realised with a short swell of sickness that you weren’t going anywhere.
“I almost thought I’d killed you,” he added, and you heard the sound of him getting to his feet and pacing over the wooden floor. “That would’ve been a mistake. You’ve got things to tell me.”
“I’m not telling you anything,” you said firmly. “Go fuck yourself.”
“I’m not certain that’s a smart thing to say, agent,” he informed you, rounding on you with a swish of his long black coat. “You’re not nearly important enough for Morrison to give a shit that you’re missing, and you were out there alone.”
A large hand reached up and gripped your face.
“You look…young.”
“Get off,” you snapped, pulling your head away.
“You want to go straight to questions? I can do that.”
He stepped back a little and you realised that there was no sensation of heat dispersing, like with normal human beings. You inhaled. What even was this person?
“The payload,” he began. “What is it?”
“My ass,” you snapped. A mean laugh echoed beneath the mask.
“Fine.”
He grasped your coat, and ripped it in half. You baulked at the display of strength, eyes widening, and darts of ice rose beneath your skin. Fear. Cold, hard fear.
“I can ask you the same question, or a different one, but this is the game. You lie, you act smart, you lose some clothes. I don’t mind stripping you down, either.”
“Fuck you,” you spat out.
“Fine by me.”
He shredded the rest of the coat, and tossed it aside.
“Where are the defensive charges?” he asked.
“None of your business.”
Your gloves.
“How many are there?”
“Enough.”
Your boots.
“When’s the payload expected?”
“Go fuck yourself.”
Armour. All of it, at once, before another question, and then your trousers were going too, and the next time you told him where to shove his shotgun he ripped your shirt off and the air swirled around your body, prickling on your skin as you realised you were standing, bound, before a Talon operative in nothing but your underwear – and while it was nothing to look at, it was better than naked.
“Any time you want to stop playing smart, agent,” he rasped, leaning towards you. “You want me to start again? What’s. In. The. Payload?”
“Jack Morrison’s hello,” you snapped. Then air was swiping across your breasts, stiffening your nipples into peaks. Your ruined bra joined the rest of your clothes in a corner, and you gazed forlornly at the little white scrap, swallowing.
“You’re cocky,” Reaper told you, his head tilting to the side. “I can tell you’re young.”
“Fuck you.”
Something hard and metal clanked against the floor nearby, and you looked for the noise and saw one of his gauntlets on the wood. His right hand was bare.
“You best be careful, agent. I might start thinking that’s what you want.”
Heat flushed your cheeks. A mean, dirty laugh filled the room.
“You’re not very forthcoming. I don’t like that.”
Another clank. Both his hands were now bare, and you couldn’t help staring at them. They were big, with long, calloused fingers, his skin once dark, now washed out and pale. You swallowed, flinching as he took a single step towards you.
“Let’s see if I can’t…open you up a bit.”
“What does that mean?” you asked shakily.
“Tell me where you put the charges and you won’t have to find out,” he promised.
“I’m not telling you a thing!”
“I see.”
A finger hooked itself into your underwear.
“Last chance.”
You swallowed.
“No,” you managed.
“Fine.”
His strong hand ripped the white cloth off your body, and tossed the ruined scrap to the side, mask staring at your face. You shuddered as a cool hand raised itself to your breast, stroking slowly over the skin.
“Could’ve saved me a lot of trouble, agent,” the Reaper growled. “But you had to go and be stubborn.”
Long fingers slid down your stomach and around your hips as he stepped closer to you, and with a hard yank he pressed you flush against him, thighs meeting his as you realised just how little heat his body was giving out.
“What…are you going to do?” you muttered, and gripped your bindings, trying to pull yourself away from him.
“I’m going to see what makes you talk,” he promised, and let you go. You dropped down a little, watching his fingers caress your stomach as he paced around you with predatory, catlike steps. You swallowed. You weren’t keen on finding out what he wanted to do, but you couldn’t betray your fellow agents. The payload was too important for that.
Both his large hands grasped your ass and squeezed gently. You let out a short gasp of surprise at the pleasantness of the sensation and tried to buck out of the way. He laughed at you and you grunted, feeling the sweep of his palms around your hips once more. A long finger rolled over your mound, parting through the curls, stopping just above your clit.
“Just how stubborn do you plan on being?” he murmured, the digit see-sawing back and forth across your mound and over the thick hair covering you.
“I-I’m not going…fuck…”
His finger slid across your clit, briefly, enough to make you jerk your hips.
“Stop it!” you whined, resisting the urge to buck into his touch. “Get off me!”
He pressed a little harder and stroked, just once, and you whimpered, pleasure slowly, cruelly sparking once in your brain, before dying down as he ceased all movement.
“Apparently you don’t plan on co-operating at all.”
The finger left you. You could feel your body react to the stimulation, the slightest hint of slick on your lower lips, as Reaper left you hanging in your restraints. Dimly lit as the room was, you dared a look to the ceiling and realised you were being tied up by a solidified version of the man’s mist, thick and black around your wrists and glistening slightly. A moment later you heard the sound of Reaper’s lips and tongue moving against something. Another moment, and his finger was back between your legs, but this time it was wet, lubricated with his saliva, and when it brushed over your nub again the sensation was somehow more pleasurable.
“No, no, no!” you whimpered, struggling. “Fuck, no, get off…”
A large hand gripped your hip and kept you anchored, allowing Reaper’s finger to slide further between your legs and stroke up, down, repeated slow circles over your nub with his saliva-wet finger until your hands were tensing and clenching in their restraints, a soft gasp leaving you.
“Stop,” you begged, “please.”
“I’ll co-operate when you do,” the Reaper told you, a debilitating calm in the midst of the slow build of your pleasure, and you tried to fight him, but when you tensed to struggle you somehow felt the sensations more intensely and a whimper dropped from your lips.
He pressed and stroked a little firmer, a little faster, and already you could feel yourself heading towards an orgasm, with no way of stopping this man from getting you off, desperately trying to push your thighs together and block his hand as the pleasure rose, and rose, and you were there-
Effortlessly his hand slid from your body, leaving you panting and unfulfilled.
Your cry of shock was shamelessly loud.
“Are you going to answer my questions?” Reaper growled, his large hands spreading your thighs apart as his fingertips teased your lower lips.
“N-no, fuck…get off…” you protested, squirming.
“Let’s see how willingly you are after another,” he murmured, and a single finger slid inside you. You bit down hard on your lower lip, grunting and swallowing back a whimper as he slowly pumped the digit back and forth, flicking and swirling as heat rushed through you, your nipples stiffening as the feeling of his skin rubbing your slick insides.
“Ah, god,” you whined, pulling away from him helplessly despite the grip on your hip. “Nnnn…don’t…”
The gentle push-pull and the pressure inside you was maddening, and as the minutes passed, the pleasure grew slowly, mounting softly, layering, until you found yourself working against his hand with urgent cants of the hip to try and coax your orgasm out. Reaper kept one step ahead of you, his pace slowing and varying to ensure that you couldn’t quite reach that crest, even as your slick began to drip slow, shining trails down your legs. His finger put pressure on a patch of your walls, a sensitive spot that made your legs jerk with each torturous rub over it.
“O-oh my god,” you gasped, “oh…fuck…ohhh…”
“Answer my questions,” the Reaper growled.
“Fuck you,” you breathed.
“Fine.”
His finger pulled out of you and there was a pause as you heard him taste the digit, savouring your flavour briefly. Something cool stroked across your engorged, sensitive sex, and you jerked, looking down. There was movement, something black and liquid, and you realised he was manipulating his mist, pressing it against your slit. The touches were soft, the smoke twisting and rolling, slowly coating itself in your slick as you moaned softly in need.
He stepped around you, unnervingly light for such a tall, well-built man, and stood facing you once more, impassive, hands bare. With the merest twitching of his fingers you were lowered, your knees slowly meeting the floor. You could feel more of the mist wrapping itself around your thighs and upper legs, locking in place to secure you. No matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t stand, as the mist kept slowly rolling and rubbing.
His hands raised to his belt, and he unclipped the brace of shotgun shells, tossing them aside with a clank, before undoing the other two belts and unzipping his trousers. They clung tightly to his thighs still, even as he pushed them down just a little, and exposed a washed-out once dark line of skin just round his hips. A moment later, his hand dipped into his trousers, and he pulled out his…
Oh, fuck.
His other hand dropped to your chin, tilting your head up to look at the thick length his other fingers had wrapped around, and you swallowed, trying to pull back. A quick jerk of his hand jolted your head forward and towards his cock, pressing it against your lips. It was as cool as the rest of his sin, if not a little warmer, and you hesitated.
“If you’re not going to talk, agent, I’m going to make you useful.”
Your eyes flicked between his mask and his cock, and he gripped your chin a little harder.
“Open.”
Slowly, your lips opened, and he pressed the cool, thick member past them, gripping the back of your head just hard enough to focus you, and pressing his hips further against you until your lips were an inch or two from his base. You tried to breathe through your nose as you felt the mist keep stroking you, a little whimper escaping your mouth and echoing down his shaft.
“Remember to breathe, agent,” he taunted, and then he drew himself back, holding your head with firm hands as he thrust into your mouth and groaned loudly. The mist continued to play with you, rolling across your clit. You gasped, bucking your crotch into the stimulation as Reaper’s flavour filled your mouth, spreading over your tongue. He tasted just like any other guy you’d done before, in fact, the taste wasn’t quite as strong as them. The man in your mouth wasn’t interested in forcing you to move your head, to suck at what was parting your lips – from his jerky, rough movements, all he seemed interested in was getting off.
Fingers of mist dipped inside of you, stroking around slowly as he used you, their pace hard and slow, reaching deep and withdrawing completely, and you made a frustrated little groan that elicited a mocking laugh from Reaper. They thickened, expanding, rubbing you properly now and working constant small noises out of your throat. You found yourself bobbing your head, your body instinctively rolling with the mist that thrust into you.
You had already been denied two climaxes, and a third was slowly on its way, the constant fingering forcing you towards an orgasm despite yourself. Reaper was being noisy now, groaning openly, his rhythm becoming disjointed and hard, and you felt your face flushing with exertion as he got closer and closer to his own climax. The mist began to stroke your nub and you cried out, on the brink of coming as it dissipated. The yell of frustration you let out made Reaper snarl in completion, and a moment later, he was twitching, coming in your mouth and down your throat. You managed to swallow, and he pulls out slowly, letting you clean your mouth behind him as he exits.
“Very nice,” he growled, watching you pant as the dregs of your pleasure faded and dropped away. “You want to talk now?”
“Fuck you.”
“Where are the charges?” he asked. “Just one, agent. Just give me one.”
“The-the café,” you managed. “There’s one…in…the café…”
“Well done, agent.”
The mist unravelled from around your legs and pulled you to your feet, and you felt your slick dripping down your legs again as Reaper looked you over. You couldn’t tell his expression behind the mask and that scared you.
“Somebody told the truth,” he congratulated. “I think a reward is in order.”
Your positions were suddenly reversed as Reaper dropped to his knees and gripped your calves, the mist rolling back to free your feet long enough for him to drape your thighs over his shoulders. Your eyes widened in surprise. What…he was…going to…oh god…
The mist took you again, sliding around your knees and holding your thighs open, securing your feet to the man’s body as one hand pushed his mask up from his face. You tried to look, to see the man behind the metal, but the white mask pressed against your stomach and obscured your view. Mist slid over your eyes moments later to blind you from seeing him as he gave your clit a long, slow lick. Pleasure rocketed up your spine, your sex sensitive and throbbing from three denied orgasms, and as the cool, soft, slick muscle worked you, you cried out in pleasure.
“Shit,” you gasped, your hips bucking. Not being able to see made the slow laps feel so much more intense. Already, you felt a coil of tension beginning to wind itself into you, and when his tongue began to stroke a little faster you shuddered, panting.
His fingers pressed against you again, teasing your lower lips, and you clenched, tensed, feeling him suck on your clit a little. You shuddered, the fingertips swirling around your slick until they gently pushed inside. Two fingers were heavenly, the pressure intense, rubbing against your front wall in just the right spot.
A swirl of his tongue, a quick suck against your nub, and you tumbled down into orgasm, crying out helplessly, gasping, your climax sharp and wet, thrumming through your body and flushing your skin. You felt damp beneath your knees, Reaper’s cool fingers clinging on tightly despite the wet. And then the pleasure faded, dipped, burned low as he kept licking, the pleasure like slashes in the pit of your stomach as your nub twitched underneath his tongue. His fingers were pressing and curling, abusing your sweet spot as you realised he wasn’t stopping.
“R-Reaper,” you whined. He grunted just loud enough for you to hear and sucked on you until you stopped breathing, your toes curling and thighs clenching. Already, another crest was on its way. Your legs burned with the tension of keep your muscles tight as he began to moan into your skin, his hand gone from your leg. There was a wet sound, a shlick of lubricated skin jerking back and forth.
Oh.
You didn’t have long to think about Reaper getting himself off. You were rising towards another high, or was it falling? In this pleasure it was so hard to tell the difference. Reaper was skilled, too good, teeth pressing against your cleft for a brief shock of danger before his tongue returned to your nub and made you wail in delight. Without warning, your climax took you, drowning you in pleasure, your breathing laboured and heaving as he gently slowed, licking still but brief, soft laps that had you trembling, and then your legs were falling from his shoulders and you could hear the sound of him getting to his feet.
“My turn, agent.”
You prepared yourself to be dropped to your knees again, but instead his fingers slowly pulled out as he stepped against you, his chest pressing against yours, and his cock brushed your inner thigh, erect and waiting. He sucked his fingers clean and gripped your hips, the blindfold sliding from your eyes as the mist gave you your sight back. You looked down at his length just as the tip pressed against your folds.
“N-no,” you whined, but he was already slowly, slowly sinking himself into your depths, and the noise that accompanied him made you whine.
“You’re going to come again, agent,” he growled promisingly in your ear, and you struggled to keep upright as he began to fuck you.
Reaper took you the way he’d had your mouth, but this time the mist, still slick with your lubricant, stroked against your ass as he did so, and you clenched tightly on both his cock and the smoke, helplessly bucking into his ruthless fucking to get away from the attempted penetration.
“It’s not going to help you,” he warned. His arms circled you and held you tight against him as he drove into you, and you bit back a scream as his cock battered that engorged, sensitive sweet spot, his pelvis angled perfectly to stroke your clit. He was right – the mist spread you open, slick and pushing past the ring of muscle and settling inside you. Your legs trembled, shook, and you squirmed as it too began to take you, moving slower than Reaper but thrusting just as deep, and you found yourself tipping over that precipice again, falling against him as he groaned and gasped beneath the metal, unable to stop your writhing hips.
“P-please,” you whined. “Reaper…please…it’s t-too m-much…”
“You’re not done ‘til I say so,” he informed you, and your head dropped against his chest as his cock sawed in and out of you, your pleasure blurring into one constant, wet, pulsing high. Your muscles lost strength with each new, shuddering crest that the Reaper forced you through, your lips open to let out mewling cries that made the man inside you moan with delight.
“Oh my god,” you chanted, “shit, please, I can’t…I’ve…it’s…uhn…”
You broke off into desperate gasps as his thrusts became erratic and needy, and you realised he was close to coming as you begged for him to stop. Your toes curled, back arching, and you came once more with a scream of pleasure. The Reaper twitched, roared, and spurted deep inside of you, clenching tightly to you. He took a few moments to pull out, and then looked you over, standing back to admire your sweat-slick, shivering form, his seed spilling out of you and sliding down your leg.
“Nicely done, agent,” he mocked. His hand twitched. The mist moved, lowering your arms and pulling them behind your back, securing them there, binding your legs together. You floated over to him, and his head tilted as he appraised you. Sweat dripped down your neck.
“Fuck you,” you breathed.
“Already did.”
A door opened somewhere, and Reaper moved away towards it, bringing you with him. There was a small room on the other side, containing two beds, a desk and some shelves. The mist dropped you down onto one of them, and bound you like a patient to a gurney.
“Sleep tight, agent.”
“Fuck you,” you mumbled, closing your eyes.
You woke early, the light seeping through the blinds of the window, your bare breasts pressing against the bed, and blearily, you moved to roll over. A tight grip on your hips stopped you, and you turned to look behind you, your eyes widening.
Reaper was standing at your back, his hands on your body, his cock already erect and pressing against your slit.
“Hey-” you gasped, and then he slid himself inside you without any preamble, your body still slick from the previous night.
“I’ve got a lot of work to do today,” he rasped. “Thought I’d relieve some of the pressure.”
“N-no!” you protested as he pulled your hips back against his, and bucked hard into you. “Shit…”
He reached a hand underneath you to play with your clit, and you whimpered, still so sensitive from his attentions yesterday.
“Oh, don’t worry, I’ll be gone soon,” he promised, pressing you down into the bed. Mist looped around your wrists in mock shackles as he grunted and growled behind you. You couldn’t help the pleasure that began to rise in you, and even as you whimpered out a helpless ‘no’, you began to buck. “You’re so responsive, agent.”
“Fuck you!”
“Oh, I will.”
Your orgasm was slow and hot, and you leaned against the mattress for support as it left you panting. The man behind you wasn’t long for his own end either, and his hips smacked against yours erratically as the climax rolled through him, his cock twitching and spurting deep inside you. You found yourself whining when he pulled out, missing the pressure of him as he panted and tucked himself away.
“Good morning, agent,” he rasped. You heard something buzz and then someone talking. “Well, that’s my cue. I’ll be back.”
“Hey, wait, you can’t-”
But he was already gone from the room, leaving you bent and secured over the bed, his cum dripping down your thighs.
Shit.