The baristas at the Starbucks looked like they were ready to ask you if you needed to be rescued. You had walked in with Gabriel, tall and thick with muscle, disguised in worn, black jeans and a blacker hoodie, the hood kept up to carefully hide his face from any angle. An outfit born of his special abilities.

You did nag him about his fashion sense, because no man his age dressed like that without looking homeless or something. But Gabriel didn’t listen. Said he felt comfortable in clothes like this.

But anyway, you paid with the cash he gave you and waited at the counter for your coffee. The young woman who handed you your finished frappuccino had the courage to ask, “Why are you with him, Girl?” with a concerned quirked brow.

You laughed and said, “Oh, he’s a monster in bed!”

“Let’s go,” Gabriel hissed, tugging you away by the shirt sleeve.

You stopped outside the Starbucks to shoot him a triumphant grin.

“What, you didn’t think that was funny?”

He ignored your question and went straight into lecturing you. His eyes lit up with anger. “Don’t draw attention to us! If I had known you were a little showoff, I’d have kept you at the safehouse.”

The ember red of his eyes died back to black when he stopped his little rant. You regarded him from beneath your eyelashes, head down.

“I thought it was harmless. They were scared of you. A little humour could help.”

Gabriel was still not taking in what you said, still on his own track of thinking.

“We should move on,” he said, thinking about your and his’ next move.

Your past month had been spent at a modest, two-story safehouse. It was fully furnished with running water and electricity. It was just like a real home. Gabriel had been saving it to retire there back when he was Commander Reyes. It had been put aside and keep secret while he was Reaper, only now having a use for it. You loved the house and wanted to stay. Gabriel found that foolish, even if the thought had crossed his mind. No way would you and he be able to hide from Talon there forever.

“Why? No one has found us for a month. Sombra never found us by now, so…”

“That’s because I blackmailed her, but it’ll only buy us so much time. Especially after I got rid of Lacroix.”

You looked away from Gabriel, overwhelmed by the gravity of what he said and remembering what had happened to Widowmaker. It was obvious, even to you, that Talon would not appreciate this and come after him. You would be in danger. You put the straw of your drink to your mouth to sip it. Some sugar would make you feel better. You sucked a large gulp, then asked, “Blackmail…?”

“Yes,” he tossed over his shoulder, “I know more about this than you, so I’d appreciate you keeping your mouth shut while I think about how to keep us both alive.”

You’re alive?, was the unasked question on your mind.

“What if I don’t shut up?”

You had been tentatively poking at the edges of Reaper’s patience during the month you spent at his retirement home. You said more, acting less like a depressed prisoner and more like an antagonistic wife.

“You shut up real quick when I fuck you,” Gabriel spat, turning around. “Little Miss Stockholm Syndrome.”

His words were a slap in the face, and you flinched. He took what you had been desperately denying the past month and said it out loud. Shamed you with it. As if he hadn’t been the one burying himself in you almost every day or night. Reaper needed you as much as you needed him, and you were beginning to see this.

“I could leave,” you threw out there, arms defiantly by your sides.

“Oh? Where are you gonna go? Where are we? Without a cell phone, do you even know?”

Your shoulders sagged.

“I’m gonna take you back to Overwatch.”

That had you all kinds of alarmed. You couldn’t go back. You couldn’t just waltz in and say, “Yeah, I’ve been sleeping with the enemy for over a month, but can I come back now as if nothing happened?” What a whore you were. Reaper’s whore.

“Please don’t,” you said quietly.

“You don’t know what you’re saying.”

“Gabriel-”

He grabbed your arm and dragged you away from the front of the Starbucks. Away from the view of any strangers. He was holding the arm with the drink, so you dropped it. Sadly, you had only finished half.  He took you down an alley between two business, where they received their shipments of supplies through back doors. You whined at him to let go, but he coldly ignored you.

Gabriel pushed your back against the brick wall. His eyes glared red at you. The details of his outfit receded as be became Reaper again, his trenchcoat forming on his body.

You knew where this was going and welcomed. You looked up at Reaper with a smirk.

“You know I like-”

Reaper spun you around and shoved you against the wall. He stepped forward to trap you there, and the memories of the first time he took you sprang forth in your mind. Same position, same man. Same you. Messed up just under the surface and weak enough for a man like him to take advantage of. You shivered with the same mix of fear and animalistic lust as last time. He was trying to prove a point, that you shouldn’t be with him. But you weren’t having it. You wanted to go home and fuck in what had to come to be the bedroom you shared with Gabriel.

“Gabriel!”

You pushed back with your hands on the wall, but Reaper’s body was like another wall at your back. Your struggling did nothing. His hand rose quickly to wrap around your throat. He inched it up to your jaw and slowly forced your head back. His chest and stomach were flush with your body.

“Stop,” he said.

The single word drained your will to fight.

“Good girl,” he praised softly with that dark, gritty voice that stole every thought from your mind.

Reaper took his hand from your throat. You swallowed, testing for soreness, and found he had placed your collar around your neck without you noticing. He ground the tent in his trousers against the cleft between your cheeks.

“This seem familiar? Huh?”

He knew it did, because otherwise you wouldn’t have struggled. Reaper pushed his forearm across the back of your shoulders to hold you against the wall, even though you weren’t going anywhere. He ran his claws down your back like a shiver and then teased your entrance with the poke of a single claw through your clothes. Against your better judgment, you whined for more stimulation, and you slid your feet against the ground to open yourself up for it. Reaper leaned in.

“Oh, are you going to be good now?”

Your mouth refused to function, so you nodded.

“Good girl.”

Reaper had trained you to associate that praise with a rough fuck, either in the throat or in your slick depths. Your jaw dropped open to voice your need, to hurry this up, but you still couldn’t make any noise.

“A good pet is patient,” he stated.

Whether or not that was intended as such, you took his words as torture. That you had to wait. The collar gently constricting your throat reminded you to stay still, but you trembled with the effort.

A tug on the back of your pants told you he was tearing the fabric. The open air on your skin made you spread your legs a couple inches further. You were one step closer to being filled with his cock.

“I’ll buy you another,” he said, easily tearing your underwear as well. “You know I treat my pets well.”

It was true. The pair of underwear you were wearing was bought by him. You remember him fucking you through one of the leg holes the day he gave it to you. To test if he liked it on you.

He guided your hips to jut out, then he bent his knees. He didn’t need the ceremony of removing his remaining belts anymore. You both knew he could remove the obstacles at will with his mind.

He didn’t need to prepare you, either. Your main source of exercise lately had been clenching your thighs in orgasm. He would fit inside you like a hand inside a well-worn leather glove.

Reaper hummed.

“I really want to give it to you, but you’ve been naughty today.”

“No, Gabriel,” you begged, pathetic and shrill.

“Ohhh, are you gonna cry? You gonna cry until I give you dick?”

Reaper laughed at you. You were about to whine some more, but he pushed the head of his cock past your entrance. He halted its advance, pulled out, and swiftly penetrated you again. Reaper held his cock steady and did this to you until you started to melt forward. When you went completely useless, he took your full weight and thrust fully inside.

Reaper started to jerk his body upwards, bouncing you on his cock. He knew your body now. Knew this position would drive the fat, rounded edge of his head crashing against your sweet spot with each bounce. It was unfair how quickly the pleasure mounted just behind your clit. No person should feel this good in an alley on a wanted murderer’s cock.

“Be a good girl and tell me how this feels.”

“Good,” was your breathless answer. Even if you wanted badly to defy him, you couldn’t defy an order while collared.

“How good? I want more detail, Pet.”

“Fucking…good.”

Reaper huffed a chuckle. He knew you couldn’t give a proper answer right now and liked to hear you try.

Reaper held you around your chest, under your breasts, with one arm. The pads on three fingers of his gloves put pressure in between your legs. Blood pounded in the area in response. You withheld your orgasm out of defiance. He just rubbed your poor, sensitive flesh harder.

“Don’t. Hold. Back. On. Me!”

Each word a commanding growl through his teeth. He was either losing his patience or close to the edge as well.

Reaper let go of your chest to tug on the collar to remind you who was in charge here. He pulled until he heard panicked gasps for air, then let go. Having put all your effort into fighting for air, you couldn’t hold your end at bay anymore. You arched and squeaked at the intensity of the rush. He waited until he felt your cunt grip his cock to let his own orgasm loose.

“You actually did. Ffffuck. I’m still hard.” He gripped your hair, the claws pleasurably scratching your scalp. He yanked your head and back against his chest. “Again!”

Reaper held your ragdoll body to his, forcing a second, weaker orgasm. He didn’t finish; this was more about sending the message that you were his and that you fucked up today. Satisfied with your punishment, you both leaned forward against the wall. Reaper dragged down the collar to lick at the red ring left on your skin.

You teetered on your legs. He caught you when you fell. He wrapped you in his trench coat and slinked off into the shadows. Gabriel intended to go back to the safehouse, pack what you needed, and leave for Gibraltar whether you liked it or not.

“What would you do without me, you stupid little girl.”