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kisskissbanggang · 4 years

Note

it was jeno in the office with the belt

[OOOOOOH I like the way you think anon. Squint and you might recognize something 👀]

[sub!idol, dom!reader, femdom, elements of hate sex, high heels, spanking, humiliation, degradation, puppy play, footjobs, cum eating]

Jeno was a terrible boss.

Not because he was mean or rude to you. Really, he didn’t seem to need your assistance — which defeated the whole point of you being his assistant. Sure, he was young, and still fairly new at this. He was an assistant himself not that long ago occupying the desk a few down from your own just last year, so perhaps he was used to simply getting everything done on his own. However, this was exhausting, waiting for Jeno to suddenly need you.

That’s why it was so exciting that Jeno was buzzing you into his office for once. You peered into the young junior manager’s office, notepad in hand and ready to go, when you noticed that Jeno was only mostly dressed, his suit jacket haphazardly thrown over the back of his chair and his shirt tails untucked as he frantically searched his office.

“Oh, thank god you’re here,” Jeno sighed in relief. “I picked up my suit from the dry cleaners after I went to the gym on my lunch, and I can’t find my belt anywhere. I have a meeting in an hour that I can’t be late for, please help me find it.”

You were stunned. Of course, you were only called in here to help your boss find a belt.

Jeno didn’t even notice as you approached his desk and opened the filing cabinet placed behind him. He did notice, though, as you drew out a belt and held it up for him. “You found my—?”

“No, Jeno,” you shook your head impatiently. “I took the liberty of storing some emergency items in your office since I know this isn’t exactly a rare occasion.”

“You did? That’s amazing,” Jeno gushed.

“Not really,” you shrugged. “I just have so much free time since you barely need my help.”

Jeno’s winning smile faltered. “Is that bad? I thought you would appreciate not having to do every piece of grunt work I have.”

You stared in disbelief before you regained your composure. “I work billable hours, Jeno. You’re salary now. I’m giving myself busy work just to get a full day.”

“God, you always were way better at this than I was,” Jeno sighed, his smile almost painfully wistful. You honestly probably would’ve hated it more if he weren’t so obnoxiously handsome.

“Right,” you nodded sarcastically, “that’s why you got the promotion over me, right?”

“Hey, I was surprised I got the promotion over you,” Jeno innocently defended, “my application was a Hail Mary for a higher paycheck and I thought I was a goner when I saw you outside the conference room for our interviews.”

You didn’t have to bother playing coy, you knew exactly why Jeno got the promotion over you. The manager in the office down the hall was gorgeous and capable, but she worked her ass off to get there, more than any of the boys ever did. The way she looked killer in suits and heels probably helped her case, and you’d taken note, making sure not to upstage upper management but still dressing up as much as you could.

However, Jeno was a hound, even if he didn’t want to admit it. He saw an opportunity to get ahead and he did. That pretty manager down the hall told you as much, when she murmured to you after your interview that you had to tread carefully, that Jeno nonchalantly mentioned you were considering prospects outside of the firm to the senior staff. Now, he tried to remain looking confident as you strode over, the click of your high heels caculated as you went to give him the belt in your hands.

“What is this really about, Jeno?” You grinned flatly. Jeno tried to look flippant turning his nose up at you so he could scoff. “You can just admit you’re sore that I turned you down.”

“Excuse me?” Jeno sputtered, aghast that you’d make such a claim.

You simply shrugged as you stepped forward, your chest pressing into his. “It’s fine. I know I was real sweet to you before I figured out who you really are.”

“I don’t know what you mean,” Jeno shook his head defiantly as he tried to tug the belt out of your hands. When you wouldn’t let up, he settled to brazenly wrap an arm around your waist, much to your surprise. “All I know is you had no reason to turn me down.”

“No reason?!” It was your turn to be offended as you grabbed Jeno’s wrist to twist him down onto the desk, his chest shoved against the fine wood as he wriggled. “I had just found out you threw me under the bus at our interviews and suddenly you wanted to go out with me? So what, I could be your trophy? That’s hardly no reason.”

Jeno shuddered as you caressed his ass with the belt in your hand. It was sorely tempting to finally get some payback. “What’re you going to do about it?” He asked, quietly but confidently.

“Tell me to stop or ask me to forgive you,” you laid out, the only two options he needed or that you cared about. Jeno considered this.

“... Please forgive me.”

The only problem was that was not the answer you were expecting. But now you had the opportunity to follow through. You squared your shoulders back, allowing yourself to finally see your handsome boss pay for sabotaging you. “Perfectly good choice, Jeno. We’ll start easy. Count five for me. Ready?”

Jeno swallowed in preparation, a small but steady yes falling from his lips as he gripped the desk. When you landed the first crack of the belt on his ass, he groaned deep before he counted.

“Good boy,” you praised, loving having this little hound at your disposal to play with. You continued, each spank and each groaned count met with praise and making your panties damp under your skirt. Jeno was breathing hard as he clutched onto the desk before you finally pulled him back up straight. “You want to be forgiven, puppy?” You cooed. Jeno nodded dazedly. He watched as you took the belt and looped it around his neck, careful not to pull too hard when you tied a loose knot so your impromptu leash hung low around his throat. You sat yourself down in his plush chair at his desk and spread your knees, pulling Jeno down to kneel as you got comfortable, but you pressed the toe of your high heel to his chest as he immediately leaned down between your legs.

“Something wrong?” He asked, almost desperately eager.

“Touch yourself,” you commanded, your toe now prodding into his arm as he reached for his zipper, “over your clothes, puppy.”

“What? I can’t—“

“Trust me,” you smiled reassuringly. “You said I’m better at this, didn’t you?”

Jeno gulped down a trepidatious breath, giving in to his temptation to trust you as you tugged on his improvised leash now to lead him closer. His palm drifted down over his clothed erection, now straining against his suit pants, and he keened into his own touch as he tentatively lapped at you over your panties.

“Good boy,” you praised, “make it count.”

Your boss whined around his tongue tickling your most sensitive parts while his hands were preoccupied. It felt incredible, but even then Jeno impressed you further. He nosed and tongued your panties aside to finally taste you in full, and his eager licking made you arch your hips into him. Jeno used his free hand to hook your thighs over his shoulders and spreading you open so he could lick you deep while he desperately jerked himself off. You threaded your fingers into his perfectly styled hair and pulled, tugging on his makeshift leash as you did so and trying not to give him the satisfaction of a moan, even as you were getting dangerously close and surprisingly fast. In fact, try as you might to slow it down, your orgasm still tore through you almost unexpectedly and making your thighs clamp tight around Jeno, who was still fervently licking into you well after your climax began to wane. You melted into his chair as you caught your breath, but Jeno held your gaze. His lips, still slicked with your orgasm, were parted like he was dying to say something. You raised a tired eyebrow.

“Such a good boy,” you praised, “You want to cum now?”

“Yes,” Jeno ardently nodded.

“Alright. Be a good pup.” Your smile was devilish, pure hellfire as you reached down and finally yanked down his zipper to fish out his blushing erection. Jeno looked on expectantly as he almost expected you to pull him up so he could fuck you, but he only found that you crossed your legs and thrust your raised foot towards him. He got the idea, regrettably enough, his cheeks flushing hard as the humiliation coursed through him and he went to slip off your high heel before you jerked your foot back. “Leave it,” you grinned, loving that he actually stopped immediately and apparently knew more tricks than sit and stay.

Jeno fought through his embarrassment, desperate enough to clutch his leaking cock to the top of your foot still in nested in your high heel and thrust against it, close enough to cumming that the sheer humiliation burning at him was only making things worse for him as he whined and whimpered against you. He was the cutest, maybe now more than ever as he squeezed his eyes shut in concentration, or maybe to shut out the realization that he was doing what he was, and you tugged on the belt around his neck to get his attention.

It seemed, amazingly, that it was being forced to lock eyes with you that finally made your handsome boss cum, the slick streaks of mess landing as high as your raised knee and pooling at your ankle as Jeno gasped and panted through his orgasm. You were able to rouse him from his haze, though, stroking your fingers through his hair to make sure he still looked at you. “Almost done, puppy,” you said softly, gently. “Gotta clean up your mess first.”

Jeno sighed, more from tiredness than defiance, before he grinned and leaned down, beginning with your ankle and licking up his mess and working his way up your leg. You could have sworn you felt his lips brush against your skin, purely for fun rather than function, and you felt pushed, emboldened, to return the favor. Jeno’s eyelids were still heavy as you tucked a finger under his chin to lift his face closer to yours, allowing him a sweet kiss on his lips that he somehow wasn’t expecting, and even tasting his warm cum still coating his tongue. His groan was deeper, almost considering what this could mean, what everything that just happened would do for your working relationship as you finally leaned back to ease the belt off from around his neck. He was bashfully grateful as he took it from you, but was surprised as you stopped him. You arose from his chair, gentler now while you helped fix him back up and even patted his hair back into place.

“So,” he smirked, the rise and fall of his chest still a bit heavy. “What now?”

“Now,” you pondered aloud as you fixed his tie and leaned up to kiss his brow. “Well, now that you have no reason to underestimate me, and now that I’ve forgiven you, I think I have some reason to consider your original proposition.”

“That’s good enough for me,” Jeno smiled, his eyes just as warm as before as he held the door open for you to walk you out. That pretty manager from down the hall was just now heading out of her office as well, assumingly to the same meeting. Her own assistant held the door open for her and followed faithfully behind, and you wondered if you could attain and maintain that same command that she did. At the very least, you figured, Jeno was a terrific start. You would find out what other tricks this hound could learn.

#cznnet #neowritingsnet #lee jeno #nct smut #nct dream smut #lee jeno smut #mail #anon

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kat-hawke · 4 years

Text

Inquisitive Acquaintances

(Following [Change of Plans])

Sea birds called to one another in the distance, circling overhead and lining up along the stone ledges of buildings and walls. The normal bustle of dockworkers and overseers competing in the cacophony of the busy harbor, the occasional bell and sound of the tides claiming the moments between. A gentle breeze rolled over the stone pathways and overlooks, the raven tresses that cascaded around the Director’s face flowing with the air as it passed by.

Leaning forward her weight rest in the elbows which propped on the knees, legs parted just enough for the hands to hang in the space between, fingers picking at the skin around the nails as she anxiously awaited the Arcanist’s arrival. She was tired, physically and mentally, and it was visible. Dark bags hung beneath the vibrant ambers, the facial features thinning faintly. So lost her own thoughts she nearly missed the woman call.

"Director Hawke.” Valerie’s tone was stiff, but not hostile.

"Valerie." Kat replied just as stiff, and neutral in tone.

"Thank you again for making the time to do this.” With a crease forming between her brows the Arcanist took a seat at the opposite end of the bench. “Shall I get immediately to brass tacks?"

"Ya' have an hour, so..." Fingers ceased their anxious picking, one hand lifting in a mock shrug that required little energy. It was preferred that they proceed right to the point of the meeting, the pair had a history of turning hostile in the blink of an eye.

Valerie's eyes narrowed with a soft hum in acknowledgement. "An hour then. Well. The obvious question is, do you know where Alyssa is?"

She knew that question was coming and despite how much she tried to mentally prepare her self for it, hearing it aloud sent a pain across her heart. Eyes slowly shut as a deep inhale was taken through the nostrils, steadying herself to not break as she had time and time again at him. Speaking softly as she opened her eyes, looking at the ground between them she answered.

"I wish I did." It wasn’t an outright lie.

"She just left?" Val shook her head slightly, then glanced askance to the space next to the Director. "Apologies, but that seems out of character, even leaving the fire aside."

Shaking her head as she drew another long breath, She knew Valerie wouldn’t leave it at that. "We were supposed t'have dinner. Her turn t'cook," she begins to explain, gaze shifting to the sea below. "Went up t'her place and found, well, likely th'same ya' did. Found th'dog restin' under the nearby tree." Bending the truth, she placed the events in the wrong order.

Val's eyes flicked downward momentarily. "He's good at staying put," she finally said, tone still neutral. "But - when? When did all of this happen?"

"A while ago, before Winter Veil." Tone still soft, she peered over towards the woman. She knew better than to give a specific time frame. "I've been run ragged with work and still rake m'self over th'coals searching for answers. Ya'll have t'excuse my lack of exact time recollection."

"I tried to scry her when I went up there after the New Year, thought it would give me something, but all I got was static." A brief pause before the Arcanist pressed further. "There was nothing left at the scene that was useful? In the ash, or leading away?"

"Nothin' that I could find. No. Just that....thing in her backyard. I stood there fer over an hour just starin' at it, hoping it would spark t'life and she'd come walkin' out of it. But—" Kat’s shoulders lifted in a weak and shallow shrug. "No such luck. M'assumin' yer aware of her magical—" She searched for a different word than what came to mind. "Practices."

"I am." Val pursed her lips in thought, glancing in Kat’s direction. "But do you think that is related, or somehow the root cause? The house burnt down when a series of wards were tripped, many of which were arcane in nature."

That was unexpected, the information of arcane being present enough to push the Director’s brows together. “Arcane? I had assumed th'destruction was fel related, considerin'...” Trailing off she shook her head, finally answering Valerie’s question.

"Well. Isn't it always related with practitioners of such..." A faint hint of disapproval touched her words.

“I helped her ward her house when she moved in. Some of them - the wards - were modified when I looked at them post-fire, others were new. Again though - is it her magical predilections you suspect are behind her disappearance?"

It began to feel as if they were going in circles and annoyance started to fester. Taking another deep breath she calmed the growing emotion, the tongue clicking against teeth before speaking, shifting her attention to Valerie. "Can't help but suspect that, no? Maybe that's wron' of me to assume. I can't help but shake th'feelin' that the level o' corruption could have caught up. Maybe it was worse than we could see on th'surface.”

The tail end of her sentence nearly caused her voice to crack, aware now of how truthful it was. But she remained disciplined, of all the people she could let emotions slip in front of, Valerie was not among them.

“Demons don't come, carry someone off, and leave no trace." Val pursed her lips a moment, then shook her head. "Hellfire doesn't leave behind a burnt house but no body, and it doesn't leave behind dogs. Since the Dread Gate was long dead, and I saw neither footsteps nor a body...?" Shoulders bounced in a small shrug. "I can only assume it's another option."

"Yer assumin' foul play then?" Kat’s gaze settled on the Arcanist, peering as if searching for answers.

"I don't know. I never thought she was the type to run away, so... what other explanation is there?"

With a low hum the Director’s lips pursed her lips and cast her gaze to the harbor below. It was clear Valerie wasn’t going to let it go, not that she could blame her, especially since she knew if the situations were reversed she’d stop at nothing to get answers. Something needed to be offered, with a soft exhale she spoke up.

"I'd be lyin' t'say it hadn't crossed m'mind either. She mentioned someone last we spoke, Remy. No' a name I'm familiar with. I wouldn' doubt she had plenty of enemies either, all things considered.” Fingers began to pick idly again as they hung lazily between the legs. "I just... I miss her."

"Remy? He was an ex of Alyssa's. The one before the Gilnean fellow that went off to war, before... you. I don't know that I'd call any of them her enemy, but. I've never known her in that way. You two were together for some time, right?"

Kat could feel her walls starting to wane now that Valerie was prodding at their relationship. Regret and guilt threatened to well up if she hadn’t pushed it down with the quick mental reminder she needed to return to work after this.

"About a year, yeah. But we kept our secrets, which I doubt comes as a surprise. Communication was neither of our stronger suits, even after all th'time. We'd just avoid certain topics, skirt around possible issues, and ignore th' more...hot button topics. Such as magical practices."

With that Val gave her own soft hum, looking for a moment to the amethyst which hung from the cord about her wrist. "It's... communication's difficult but necessary for any relationship to work long term. Her magic seems to have very much bothered you."

A chuckle and scoff mixed as the Director shook her head faintly, hoping this wouldn't turn into a counseling. "About as much as my magic bothered her at time. We had our moments though, but I doubt ya' came out here just to dissect our relationship."

"I didn't, that's true. But when there's a mystery at hand, you piece together the whole from its disparate parts. I say, talking to someone who deals in mysteries." The very corners of Valerie’s lips turn upward ever faintly, to Kat’s disbelief.

"My mysteries are, usually, more straight forward." Her own lips dropped, pursing to one side. "Unfortunately a missing persons falls to the guard, nor could I officially be involved in a investigation because of our relationship. Conductin' an unofficial one on m'own would only bring consequences."

"Well...It's lucky, then, that not all of us are thusly bound."

The city bell sounded on the half-hour mark, drawing the attention of both women for a moment before Valerie inquired further.

"Tell me what you've done so far."

"Looked over the ruins of th' cottage, recovered Dog, kept on eye on the places she frequented just in case. There's a....former associate who is known to scry. Reached out t'collect a favor, but the results were nothin'."

"And the guards? Have they been alerted?" The Arcanist pressed.

"I submitted a report on the destruction of the cottage, wot eva they did after that- I don' know." A half truth. She filled out a report but filed it herself under an alias.

There was silence between them for a moment before Valerie dragged her gaze to the Director. "Two things, then. First - whatever is between us aside, Alyssa was a very dear friend to me. I want to get to the bottom of this. Will you accept my help?"

Turning her attention the other woman Kat stared for a moment in surprise, having expected her to sling some sort of accusation. "I know she was a dear friend t'ya' Val. I loved her, and want her back just as badly. But I don't know how I can help, I can't put m'career at risk again."

"I'm not asking how and whether you can help. I'm asking whether you'll accept mine." Valerie’s expression was neutral, voice steady and matter-of-fact.

Several nods followed, shallow at first but growing in volume as she wrestled back another wave of emotion. She didn’t expect to admit her love aloud, and doubly so to the present company. "Yeah- yes. I just, I'll do woteva t'get her back."

Try as she might her tone still cracked faintly as she spoke. There was no rouse here, no lie or misguided statement to lead the Arcanist. She wanted the warlock to return in some capacity, dreading going back to find the vacant dagger.

"That brings me to two..." Valerie inhaled sharply as she eyed the Director, searching for words before her jaw shut, teeth clicking softly "Mm. Nevermind." Rising to her feet she glanced down at the raven haired woman. "You should get some lunch while you still have a break."

Blinking rapidly she watched the woman stand, confusion drowning out any other emotion as raven brows pulled together. “Ya’ sure?”

Standing as she spoke her hands brushed against the dress pants, smoothing them out before tugging the bottom of the blazer to fit firmly once again. Nodding with a quiet clear of the throat. "Yer right, I probably should. Haven't eaten anythin' at all today."

"I'm sure. Save your health. And in the meantime..." Valerie’s attention turned to the far side of the docks as she readied herself to leave. "There's a small shack near the shipyard; it's run down and has words graffiti'd down the side of it - caution: sea monsters, if memory serves. If there's anything you need to leave to make it easier to work - evidence, notes, whatever - leave it there."

Following the woman’s gaze to the mentioned location Kat responded with a shallow nod and stifled hum in acknowledgement. With a few short words to arrange for the collection of the Arcanist’s canine companion they parted ways.

[ @the-real-arcanist-val ] [ Mentions/Relevant: @alyssa-ward ]

#ic #rp #The Dagger

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myfandomruinedmylife · 6 years

Text

Reaper76

The sounds of war were eerily familiar to Jack. They constantly raged around him; defining his every move, calling his every action. He had grown to memorize the screams of his fallen comrades, tasting every last syllable of their cries of panic before they were silenced by the enemy.

But even so, in the midst of battle, he never faltered. He never let anything affect him as he shot round after round, deploying biotic fields whenever he could and fighting back screams of agony when they were not enough as bullets ripped through his chest or electricity lit his veins on fire.

And eight seconds later, he returned to the vicious cycle, biting back curses and instead shouting orders to his teammates, finger tightening around the trigger of his weapon whenever a set of footfalls grew too near, or when he could just barely make out the sounds of gunfire in the distance.

Jack never let his soldier-like façade crack during battle. He never hesitated to murder and often pulled the trigger on his own comrades, if they startled him enough. Soldier 76 was nobody special. He wasn't stealthy like Genji, or powerful like D.va and Bastion. He was just a guy with a cool visor and a gun.

Jack, in simple terms, was weak. And he hated it.

He hated every second that Mercy hesitantly trailed behind him instead of the other heroes; as if he were made of porcelain that could easily crack and needed to be healed immediately; as if he couldn't hold his own against someone like Sombra.

He hated the other heroes’ sympathy whenever he would return more ragged than the rest of them. He hated trailing along the sidelines, taking shots whenever he could instead of jumping straight into the action like he oh-so-desperately wanted to do.

Jack loathed not being able to stop sprinting in fear of injury for just one second, just enough time to catch his breath. He was miserable all the time under his minimal armor, though it didn't make a difference, as he never let anyone see his scarred face, anyway.

But being a hero was just the soldier’s job; he had no say in whether it was fair or not.

Adrenaline burned through his chest as he pumped his legs faster and faster, darting across the outside edge of the town. Cold eyes flicked left to right, heart rate increasing as he wet his chapped lips under his mask.

He had no idea where he was.

Jack had tried to listen for those familiar screams of terror and agony that had burned themselves into his memory but was only greeted with the distant sound of gunfire in a direction he couldn't quite place.

He was running blind, desperately clinging onto the far-fetched hope he could reunite himself with his team before the clock ticked down to zero and he was forced to head back to base.

Soldier 76's breath hitched in his throat, heart dropping into his stomach as he heard the unsteady, panicked footfalls of someone heading his way. He held his breath as he dove into the nearest building, slamming his back against the wall and reloading his gun as quickly and silently as he could.

D.va’s scream of pain just outside caused his muscles to clench, eyes squeezing shut as he took his bottom lip into his mouth. He tensed, prepared to jump out and defend his comrade when he heard the unmistakable sound of the chamber of a handgun being clicked into place a couple of feet away.

“It’s high noon,” drawled a strong southern accent, and D.va desperately tried to call for her mech before the bullet ripped through the air and into her skull.

Jack held his breath as her body hit the dirt just outside, blood splattering into the room he was in and staining the broken tile flooring.

His ears twitched as McCree took two steps forward, towards the open doorway. Chains on his outfit clinked together as he stopped, almost on top of Soldier. Jack could smell his cologne, the strong scent of peppermint and wood invading his senses. If the hero took even a half step forward, Jack would be discovered and killed.

It seemed like eons of silence, to the point where Soldier wasn't sure if McCree had been silent enough to walk away without him noticing, or was waiting only inches away to strike him down. Jack wasn't sure which option scared him more.

Finally, the breath he hadn't even realized he had been holding released itself as the sound of leather boots stomping away grew fainter by the second. He was alone again.

“I didn't take you for a coward, Soldier,”

The low, rough voice startled Jack, and he instantly drew his weapon and aimed at the man standing in the doorway. Reaper’s hellfire guns were clutched loosely in either hand, and he took a silent step forward as Soldier 76 reloaded his weapon, aiming directly at his old friend’s heart.

A deep, calm chuckle resonated around the room, and Reaper shook his head slightly, as if amused by the soldier’s actions. “Are you going to shoot me, Jack?”

“That's not my name,” Soldier’s fingers tightened around the trigger as he uneasily shifted from foot to foot. “You can't call me that anymore.”

Reaper was still, head tilted to the side, as if gauging Jack’s every move. “Why are you afraid?”

Jack Morrison didn't answer, only ground his teeth under his mask and tried to keep his feet still. He wanted to say so many things, to scream at the man and to shoot him over and over, to kill him again and again until it hurt to breathe. Instead, he took a breath, feeling his shoulders relax the slightest.

“Why haven't you killed me yet, Gabe?”

Reaper froze at the sound of his name, eyes widening under his mask as he, perhaps, realized just how much he missed hearing the word come out of Jack’s mouth. He quickly tried to compose himself, readjusting his grip on his guns as he cleared his throat once. “...I just-”

He cut himself off, biting his tongue as Jack’s attention never diverted from him, not even for a second.

Jack paused the thoughts whirring around in his head to stare at his former partner. In that instant, he only saw Gabriel Reyes, just a twenty-something-year-old guy who would joke with him and pull pranks on Jack at two in the morning and laugh when the soldier shoved his face into his food the next morning. Gabe had never really cared for Bran Flakes, anyway.

Soldier 76 froze in his spot when Reaper raised both of his weapons, aiming directly at Jack’s head. Of course, he was wrong. This wasn't Gabriel Reyes, who would die before he had even laid a finger on Jack Morrison; this man was a monster who killed without batting an eye. Jack wasn't one to talk, however, as he knew exactly what was going on inside Gabe’s brain.

“So you're going to kill me, then,” Jack swallowed, slowly lowering his gun to pose as less of a threat. Reaper was dead silent, not moving a muscle as tension vibrated in the air.

And then Reaper mumbled the word that would save Jack’s life.

“Duck.”

Instantly, Jack went down like a sack of dog food, rolling towards Reaper as his friend shot a couple of rounds into the doorway. He discarded his guns and grabbed a new set as the body of Jesse McCree fell limply to the dirt just behind where Soldier was standing.

Jack turned to Gabe with an almost awed expression on his face. The moment, however, was cut short, as the sword ripped through Soldier’s chest before he could blink.

With a shout, Reaper whirled on Genji, firing at the stunned kid and slamming his body into the wall, before it peeled off and fell to the floor, dark blood staining his suit and seeping onto the dirty ground below him.

Reaper turned and caught Jack as he fell. He didn't even have enough strength to deploy a health pack, and he was forced to endure the next couple of seconds of ripped organs and internal bleeding.

“I came... I came because I missed the old days. I miss... I miss being a hero, Jack.” Gabe's voice was dull, as if lacking emotion completely as he stared down at the fallen soldier.

Jack let out a laugh, the emotion tugging at his lips as he stared up at Reaper, his vision starting to dot and his chest going numb. “You're more of a hero than I ever was, Reyes,” Jack mumbled, believing what he said with every fiber of his being.

“No, Morrison-”

“Don't get sappy,” Soldier 76 coughed, blood dripping out of his mouth. “I’m fine, really. And besides,” he tried for a weak smile, though Gabriel couldn't see it under his broken mask. “I'll see you in eight seconds.”

Jack Morrison stared up at Gabriel Reyes’ face for the last time before his vision darkened to black completely.

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