Sinny

22 || She/Her || // Requests are Open // Please read Fanfic Request prior to requesting a fic! << Do not follow if you are not comfortable viewing mature content >>

[sinsofbeauty]

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[sinsofbeauty]

Line of Work Pt. 3

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Emre Sarioglu x Journalist! Reader

Warnings: Slow Burn, Bickering, Eventual Smut?

Overview: Your reunion with Emre quickly becomes a tense but playful exchange as he admits to hearing your private recording, forcing you to confront feelings you never intended for him to hear. As you both argue over Talon and your refusal to blindly follow his orders, Emre’s guarded demeanor begins to soften, revealing a more vulnerable side beneath his stern exterior.

A/n: Hey lovelies! Thank you for staying tuned with my little Emre fanfics! This one is a bit longer than the other ones so I hope you enjoy reading! If you haven’t read part 2 I recommend doing so before moving forward. Lmk if you’d like a like a little more spice in the next parts. Enjoy!

The words hung between you in the quiet bedroom.

“I’ve spent enough years clearing buildings to know when I’m not alone,” Emre said, his voice carrying the faintest trace of amusement. “You can come out now.”

You remained beneath the bed.

There was something deeply humiliating about knowing he had caught you hiding, but crawling out now somehow felt even worse. The recording was still fresh in your mind, every word you had said about him replaying itself with cruel clarity. You had admitted things you hadn’t even fully admitted to yourself, and now the very person you had been talking about was sitting above you with the recorder still in his possession.

Your gaze stayed fixed on the recorder hanging loosely from his hand, your embarrassment only growing with every second that passed. “You really had to listen to the whole thing?” you finally asked, your voice slightly muffled from beneath the bed.

A quiet chuckle came from above you. “To be fair, I wasn’t exactly expecting to find something like that.”

You squeezed your eyes shut. The things you had said about his temper, the way he protected people, the Turkish he muttered beneath his breath, and, worst of all, the fact that you hoped you would see him again. You had said those things assuming there was absolutely no chance he would ever hear them.

Now he was sitting on your bed with the recorder in his hand like he had all the time in the world.

“This is humiliating,” you muttered, your eyes dropping briefly to the recorder still hanging from his hand. Of all the ways Emre could have discovered what you had said, getting caught hiding beneath your bed while he casually held the evidence was probably the worst possible outcome. “You weren’t supposed to hear any of that.”

A quiet chuckle came, “I gathered that.”

You crawled a bit out from underneath and finally looked up at him, glaring despite the embarrassment burning across your face. “And you weren’t supposed to find me hiding under my bed, either.”

“Hiding beneath your own bed was certainly unexpected.” The darkness of his eyes squinted down at you with quiet pleasure.

“Fuck off.”

His amusement only seemed to grow. “I was beginning to wonder how long you intended to stay there.”

“Long enough to recover from the fact that you listened to an entire recording about yourself.”

“You do have a way with words.”

You paused before slowly pushing yourself out from beneath the bed to get to your feet, brushing dust from your clothes. Your hair had fallen across your face, and you could feel the heat of embarrassment creeping up your cheeks since that comment caught you off guard. You deliberately avoided looking directly at him for a moment, suddenly far too conscious of everything you’d said on that recording now that the person you’d been talking about was only a few feet away.

When you finally lifted your eyes to him, Emre was still seated on the edge of your mattress, the recorder resting loosely between his fingers on one of his legs. The very legs that were manspread, feet planted firmly against the floor while his other arm was braced against the bed behind him, giving him an almost casual posture despite the seriousness of the situation. It was a stark contrast to the rigid, guarded way he usually carried himself.

For once, he didn’t look like he was preparing for a fight or anticipating the next threat. His shoulders had relaxed slightly, and there was a subtle ease in his expression that you hadn’t seen much from him before. The usual sternness was still there, but it had softened around the edges, particularly when his eyes met yours.

There was something else in his voice, too. When he’d complimented you, there had been a warmth beneath his words that sounded suspiciously like genuine appreciation. It wasn’t the sort of thing Emre seemed particularly comfortable expressing openly, as though he’d revealed more than he intended and was already trying to take it back.

You couldn’t quite tell whether he was actually smiling or simply allowing the smallest hint of a smirk to linger at the corner of his mouth. Either way, there was an almost fond quality to his expression that didn’t quite match the stern man you’d been arguing with moments earlier.

His hand eventually dropped beside his thigh, disappearing from your immediate view as his fingers loosely curled around the recorder. The toe of his boot tapped quietly against the floor, an absent, rhythmic movement that betrayed a little more restlessness than his otherwise composed demeanor suggested.

For a man who seemed determined to make everyone believe nothing ever got under his skin, he wasn’t nearly as unreadable as he thought he was.

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” he added, lowering his gaze briefly toward the recorder. “You make a living putting thoughts into words.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether he was being sincere or simply trying to get under your skin. There was something almost amusing about the way he had phrased it, especially considering how rarely he seemed willing to hand out compliments in the first place.

“Was that a compliment?”

His eyes lifted toward yours, and for a brief second, you caught that faint amusement again. “Don’t make it complicated.”

“It was,” you insisted, a small smile tugging at your lips.

Emre gave a quiet sigh, looking down at the recorder as though it suddenly required his full attention. “I said you are good at your profession.”

“That’s a compliment.”

“It’s an observation.”

“You really can’t just admit that you complimented me, can you?”

The corner of his mouth twitched, betraying him before he could smooth his expression back into something more serious. “Hayır.”

You couldn’t help the soft laugh that escaped you. “You really do hide behind Turkish whenever you don’t want to answer me.”

“I speak Turkish because it is my language,” he replied, completely straight-faced.

“Convenient.”

“Very.”

The answer was so dry that you laughed again, and for a brief moment, the awkwardness surrounding the recording seemed to fade. Emre didn’t say anything else, but the subtle amusement remained in his eyes as he watched you. It was strange seeing him like this… less guarded, less like the hardened operative who had been barking orders at you and more like an actual person who was capable of enjoying himself.

Your attention dropped toward the recorder still resting in his hand.

“Give me that.”

Emre followed your gaze, looking down at the device as though he’d momentarily forgotten he was still holding it. His fingers curled around it, and he looked back at you.

“No.”

Your eyebrows lifted. “Excuse me?”

“I said no.”

“That is my recorder.”

“I know.”

“You admitted it was an invasion of privacy.”

“It was.”

“And you’re still keeping it?”

“For now.”

You folded your arms across your chest, giving him a pointed look. “Emre.”

His expression remained maddeningly calm, almost as though he couldn’t understand why you were making such a fuss. “Aren’t you the one that recorded information about me,” he explained.

“I recorded my thoughts.”

“About me.”

“Yes.”

“Then it may be relevant.”

You frowned. “Relevant to what?”

He didn’t answer immediately. The sudden silence made your stomach tighten. The amusement disappeared from his expression, replaced by that familiar guarded look you’d seen so many times before. His fingers shifted around the recorder, and his gaze briefly moved toward the bedroom door as though checking the room again before returning to you, remembering what his objective was.

“Emre.” This time, there was more weight behind his name.

His eyes met yours, and whatever he was about to say seemed far more serious than the teasing conversation you’d been having only moments ago. He finally stood from the bed and slipped the recorder into the inside pocket of the jacket he was wearing. His movements were deliberate, almost casual, but you could tell from the change in his expression that something more serious had entered the conversation.

“How much do you know about what happened at the facility?”

You blinked, “Not enough, apparently.”

“That isn’t an answer.”

“Neither is refusing to tell me anything.”

“You don’t need to know.” His jaw tightened.

There it was. That tone. The same clipped, authoritative voice he had used whenever he expected you to obey without question. Something about it immediately irritated you.

“You know, for someone who spent the night telling me how important information is, you have a strange relationship with actually giving it.” You huff.

Emre’s eyes narrowed, and whatever trace of amusement had remained in his expression disappeared. His posture straightened as he looked at you, his attention suddenly sharpening in a way that made it clear the conversation had crossed into territory he wasn’t willing to treat lightly.

“This isn’t a game.”

“I know.”

“Do you?” His voice hardened, carrying the same stern authority you’d heard from him during the mission. “Because from where I’m standing, you still don’t understand what you walked into.”

You held his gaze, refusing to let the sudden shift in his demeanor intimidate you. “Then explain it to me.”

“No.”

The answer came so quickly that you almost scoffed.

“Why?”

“Because knowing more makes you a bigger target.”

You stared at him, irritation building again. “I already am a target.”

“Exactly.”

The sharpness behind the word made you pause. Emre didn’t raise his voice, but somehow that made his response carry even more weight. His jaw tightened as he watched you, as though he were trying to make you understand something he had no intention of sugarcoating.

After a moment, he stepped closer. The space between you narrowed, and his expression became noticeably more serious. “Talon knows someone interfered,” he explained. “They know information left that facility with someone. They may not know who took it yet, but they’re looking. They will keep looking until they find the person responsible.”

Your stomach dropped. “The information I found?” you asked, suddenly more uneasy.

“Some of it.”

You stared at him, trying to make sense of the answer. “What does that mean?”

“It means you didn’t find everything.”

“Then what did I find?”

Emre held your gaze for several seconds before answering, “Enough.”

The single word made your stomach twist.

“Enough for them to come after me?”

“Yes.”

There was no hesitation in his answer this time. No attempt to soften it or make the situation sound less dangerous than it was. The simple certainty in his voice sent a chill down your spine.

You folded your arms more tightly, trying to steady yourself. “And you’re telling me this now?”

“I came here to make sure you were alive.”

You looked at him, searching his expression for some indication that you’d misunderstood. “You came here for me?”

Emre’s gaze shifted away for a brief moment, his jaw tightening as though he hadn’t intended for the words to come out that way. “I came here because I knew they might find you.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

His eyes returned to yours.

For several seconds, neither of you spoke.

Something about the way he looked at you made your heart beat a little faster, because for once, Emre didn’t have an immediate answer ready. He looked almost uncomfortable with the question, as though admitting the truth would mean acknowledging something he’d been trying very hard not to think about.

Finally, he exhaled quietly.

“No,” he said, his voice lower now. “It isn’t.”

“And you’re avoiding the question.”

“I’m answering the important one.”

“No, you’re answering the one you want to answer.”

His gaze snapped back toward you. “Do you always do this?”

“Do what?”

“Push.”

Emre lifted one hand toward you, the controlled composure he’d been maintaining beginning to crack around the edges. The frustration he’d been keeping buried was finally becoming apparent in his expression, his brows drawn together as he struggled to get you to understand why he was being so adamant.

“You ask questions,” he said, his voice becoming firmer with each word. “You keep asking even when you’ve already been given enough information to know you’re in danger. You don’t know when to stop.”

“Because nobody tells me anything!” you shot back. “You expect me to just stand here and accept whatever you decide to tell me without explaining why?”

“Because sometimes you do not need to know everything!”

“That’s convenient.”

“It is not convenient.” His voice dropped lower, becoming sharper. “It is necessary.”

You stared at him, refusing to back down. “You don’t get to decide what’s necessary for me.”

“I do when your decisions can get you killed.” The words came out harder than he intended, and the weight of them seemed to settle over the room almost immediately.

Neither of you spoke.

Emre’s expression remained stern for a moment longer, but you could see the realization settle in as he recognized how harshly he’d spoken. Some of the anger drained from his features, leaving behind something quieter and considerably more complicated.

You looked away first, folding your arms across your chest as you tried to hide the way his words had affected you.

“I can take care of myself.”

“I know.”

The response came so quickly that you looked back at him.

Emre held your gaze without hesitation. There was no sarcasm in his voice this time, no attempt to dismiss what you’d said. He genuinely believed you.

“That is not the problem.”

Your brow furrowed. “Then what is?”

For a moment, he didn’t answer.

His gaze drifted toward the window, following the trails of rain slowly making their way down the glass. The tension in his shoulders remained, but his posture had relaxed slightly, as though he were trying to find the right words rather than simply giving you another order.

When he finally spoke, his voice was quieter.

“The problem is that you think taking care of yourself means you have to do everything alone.”

You didn’t know how to respond.

The statement didn’t sound like criticism anymore. There was something far more personal buried beneath it, something that made you wonder if he was speaking from experience rather than simply lecturing you.

You studied him carefully.

For someone who spent so much time insisting that you didn’t need to know everything about him, he had a strange habit of revealing pieces of himself without realizing it.

And somehow, that made you wonder just how much of his sternness was really meant to keep you under control… and how much of it was meant to keep himself from caring too much.

“I’ve seen people make that mistake,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “People who convince themselves they can handle everything alone until there’s nothing left for them to handle.”

There was something in the way he said it that made you realize he wasn’t talking about you anymore. His gaze had drifted somewhere beyond the room, his expression briefly losing that guarded sharpness he’d been wearing since he arrived. For just a moment, you caught a glimpse of the exhaustion underneath the soldier—the kind that didn’t come from a long day or lack of sleep, but from years of carrying things that never really went away.

Then, just as quickly as it appeared, the moment vanished.

Emre straightened, his shoulders settling back into that familiar controlled posture as though he’d caught himself revealing too much.

“Pack a bag.”

You blinked at the sudden change in direction. “What?”

“You can’t stay here.”

“I’m not leaving my apartment.”

“Yes, you are.”

“No.”

His eyes narrowed, and the look he gave you made it clear he was already running out of patience. “That wasn’t a suggestion.”

You folded your arms, refusing to let his stern tone intimidate you. “Well, I’m not your soldier.”

“I know.”

“Then stop giving me orders.”

“I’m trying to keep you alive.”

“And I’m trying to have a say in what happens to me.”

His jaw tightened as he looked at you. “You can have a say when we’re somewhere safe.”

You frowned, “Where exactly is safe?”

“Not here.”

“That’s not an answer.”

“It is the only one you need.”

You stared at him in disbelief, unable to decide whether you were more frustrated by his refusal to explain himself or the fact that some part of you knew he probably had a reason.

“This is insane.”

“Yes.”

The simple agreement caught you off guard.

You blinked at him.

Emre released a quiet sigh and rubbed the bridge of his nose, his eyes closing briefly as though he were trying to gather what little patience he had left. When he looked at you again, the severity in his expression had softened.

“Bak,” he said quietly. “Look at me.”

You hesitated before meeting his eyes.

“If I believed you were safe here, I would leave you here.” There was no command in his voice now. No irritation. Just a quiet certainty that made it difficult to argue with him. “I would not have come.”

The words settled between you.

You swallowed, suddenly realizing that beneath all his orders and evasiveness, he genuinely believed something was wrong. He hadn’t come here because he wanted to interfere with your life. He’d come because he’d thought leaving you alone was more dangerous.

“Then why didn’t you just call me?”

“Because I don’t know who’s listening.”

Your expression changed.

Emre noticed immediately.

“Your phone could be compromised,” he explained. “Your email could be compromised. Your building could be watched. Anyone who knows your name could potentially be used to find you.”

Your eyes instinctively moved toward the phone sitting on your desk. The device suddenly looked very different. “So what am I supposed to do?”

Emre held your gaze for a long moment.

“Trust me.”

The answer was quiet, almost surprisingly vulnerable coming from someone who had spent most of the conversation refusing to give you anything.

You studied him carefully.

“You make that sound easy.”

“It isn’t.” His expression softened slightly. “I know.”

The words were quiet, but they carried more weight than you expected. You stared at him for a moment, trying to decide whether he was serious.

It was almost laughable.

Not because you didn’t trust him. That was the problem.

You trusted him far more than you probably should have after knowing him for barely any time at all. Somehow, despite the secrecy, the orders, and the fact that he’d essentially appeared in your apartment uninvited, you still believed that Emre was trying to protect you.

“You realize that’s a pretty big thing to ask from someone who just admitted to listening to her private recording.”

“I know.”

You raised an eyebrow, waiting for something more. An explanation, perhaps. An apology would have been nice.

“That’s it?”

Emre’s expression remained neutral. “What would you prefer?”

“An apology.”

He studied you for a moment, apparently weighing whether giving you one was worth the trouble. Finally, he gave a small nod.

“You’re right.”

You blinked, genuinely caught off guard. “I am?”

“Yes.”

“You’re actually apologizing?”

His expression immediately became slightly annoyed, as though your surprise had somehow offended him. “Do not make me regret it.”

A smile slowly crept across your face. “I just didn’t think you were capable.”

His eyes narrowed, “I am capable of many things.”

“Apparently apologizing is one of them.”

He gave you a long, unimpressed look that made you bite back another laugh. You knew you were pushing your luck, but there was something strangely satisfying about getting a reaction out of him.

Then another thought occurred to you.

“You know what else is an invasion of privacy?”

Emre waited, his expression already suggesting that he knew he wasn’t going to like whatever came next.

“Breaking into my damn apartment.”

His eyebrows rose slightly. “I did not break in.”

“You entered my home without permission.”

“The door was open.”

You stared at him.

“The door was open?”

“Yes.”

“You expect me to believe you just happened to find my apartment with the door conveniently open?”

“I didn’t say it was unlocked.”

You blinked at him, momentarily thrown by the distinction. “Then how did you get inside?”

Emre gave you a look that made it painfully clear you weren’t getting an answer. His expression was almost infuriatingly calm, as though the logistics of how he’d entered your apartment were beneath the importance of the conversation.

“That’s not important if I believed you were in danger.”

“And apparently that gave you permission to conduct a personal tour.”

His jaw tightened, although you caught the faintest hint of amusement returning to his expression. “I was checking the apartment.”

“I remember you sitting on my bed listening to my private recording.”

Emre exhaled slowly through his nose, clearly trying to determine whether continuing the argument with you was worth whatever patience he had left. You could practically see him reminding himself that you were the person he was supposed to be protecting. The thought made you smile.

“Didn’t think you liked me that much if you had to track me all the way back to my own home.”

His brows knitted together. For a moment, he simply stared at you, seemingly caught between irritation and something else you couldn’t quite identify. Then a small, reluctant grin tugged at the corner of his mouth.

“Ya sen…” he muttered, shaking his head.

You smiled back. “What?”

He looked away briefly, rubbing his thumb along the edge of his jacket pocket where your recorder was still tucked away. “For a brat, you have an impressive talent for irritating the people who are trying to save you.”

You gasped dramatically, placing a hand against your chest as though he’d just delivered the most insulting statement imaginable. “A brat?”

“Yes.” The faint grin returned to the corner of his mouth, and for once, he didn’t seem particularly interested in hiding it. “You really do enjoy arguing.”

“Only when I’m right.”

“That is unfortunate.”

“For you?”

“For everyone around you.”

A laugh slipped from you before you could stop it, and for a brief moment, the tension that had been hanging between you eased. Emre watched you with that same restrained amusement, and you couldn’t help noticing how different he seemed when he wasn’t deliberately forcing himself to be untouchable. The hard edges of his expression softened, his shoulders weren’t quite as rigid, and there was a warmth in his eyes that seemed to appear only when he forgot to hide it.

Emre shook his head, though the corner of his mouth threatened to betray him again. “İnatçı kız…”

You smiled knowingly. “I know what that means now.”

“I know.”

Something about the way he said it made your stomach flutter. There was an almost fond resignation in his voice, like he’d already accepted that arguing with you was going to become a recurring problem in his life.

You quickly pushed the thought aside and glanced toward the rain-streaked window.

“Emre?”

The change in your voice immediately caught his attention. Whatever amusement had been lingering in his expression disappeared, replaced by the serious, watchful demeanor you’d seen during the mission.

“Are they really going to come here?”

The question seemed to drain the remaining warmth from the room.

“I don’t know.”

You frowned. “That’s not very reassuring.”

“I don’t lie to make people feel better.”

You nodded slowly, although the answer did little to settle the uneasiness building in your chest. “Could they find me?”

“Yes.”

The certainty in his response made your stomach tighten.

“Could they find this apartment?”

“Yes.”

You looked toward the front door, suddenly seeing the familiar space differently. The same hallway you’d walked through countless times now felt like a potential entrance for someone who wanted you dead.

Your gaze returned to Emre.

“Could they already know I’m here?”

He hesitated. It was barely noticeable. A fraction of a second, perhaps, but you’d already learned that Emre didn’t hesitate without a reason.

Your stomach dropped.

“Emre.”

“I don’t know.”

“You hesitated.”

“I considered the possibility.”

“That isn’t what I asked.”

His expression hardened, his patience thinning again. “Because I don’t know.”

You stepped closer, refusing to let him retreat behind another vague answer. “Then tell me what you do know.”

He studied you for several seconds, seemingly weighing how much information he could safely give you. Finally, he exhaled and spoke.

“Talon is looking for whoever left that facility with the information you found. They don’t know exactly who that person is yet, which means they’re still working from limited information. They’re searching for connections, movements, anything that can lead them back to whoever interfered.”

Your arms slowly fell from where they had been crossed.

“So they don’t know it’s me?”

“Not yet.”

The words should have made you feel relieved, but the way he said them kept that relief from settling.

“And if they figure it out?”

“They won’t.”

“You can’t guarantee that.”

“No.” His answer was immediate and honest. Emre held your gaze, his expression unwavering. “But I can make sure they don’t get to you before we know what they’re planning.”

You searched his face, looking for the hesitation you had seen earlier, but there wasn’t any now. He sounded completely certain of one thing, even if everything else remained uncertain. He wasn’t promising that Talon wouldn’t find you.

He was promising that if they did, they would have to get through him first.

There was something different in his expression now, something you couldn’t quite put into words. It wasn’t simply the protective instinct you’d witnessed at the facility. That had been immediate, almost automatic. This felt deliberate.

A choice.

“You really came back for me,” you said quietly.

His gaze dropped for the briefest moment before returning to yours. “I told you I would find you.”

Your chest tightened. You remembered the way he’d said those words the night before, his voice low and unwavering as he promised he’d find you if anything came of what had happened.

At the time, you’d assumed it was a warning.

Standing here now, you weren’t so sure.

Emre stepped past you and toward the closet, the conversation apparently settled in his mind even if you still had several questions burning through yours. He reached for the closet door with the same calm certainty he’d carried through the rest of the evening.

“Pack what you need.”

You turned toward him, watching as he pulled the door open. “You’re really not going to tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

The answer came so easily that you couldn’t help staring at him.

“Why?”

“Because if I tell you, you will ask another twenty questions.”

You scoffed. “I would ask maybe ten.”

“Thirty.”

You smiled despite yourself. “Twenty-five.”

Emre glanced over his shoulder at you. His expression remained stern, but there was that familiar warmth in his eyes again, the slightest hint that he was enjoying the back-and-forth more than he would ever admit.

“İnatçı kız…” He turned back toward the closet and reached for the handle, but before he could open it fully, you spoke again.

“Emre.”

His hand stopped. For a moment, he remained facing the closet. “What?”

You hesitated.

There was one question that had been sitting quietly in the back of your mind since the moment he’d walked through your door. You’d tried to ignore it, bury it beneath arguments and sarcasm, but the question had only grown louder the longer he stayed.

“Why do you care?”

The words seemed to change the atmosphere immediately.

Emre didn’t move. His hand remained resting against the closet door while the rain continued tapping steadily against the window behind you. For several seconds, he said nothing at all. When he finally looked over his shoulder, his expression was impossible to read.

“You already recorded the answer.”

Your heart skipped. “What?”

His gaze settled fully on you. “You said I was a good man.”

You swallowed, suddenly remembering every word you’d spoken into that recorder before you’d known he would ever hear it.

“I did.”

“You said you thought I’d been forced to survive in a place that kept asking me to become someone else.” His voice was quieter now. “You said you hoped I’d win.”

Your chest tightened. “I remember.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke.

You weren’t sure what answer you’d expected from him, but this wasn’t it. Emre looked almost uncomfortable acknowledging what you’d said, as though your words had reached somewhere he’d spent years keeping carefully guarded.

He turned away from the closet completely and faced you.

“So let me do something good.”

The words came quietly, almost reluctantly, as though admitting how much he cared was something he still wasn’t entirely comfortable with. His eyes held yours.

“Let me get you out of here.”

You searched his face. There was no teasing now. No stern command. No attempt to hide behind sarcasm or Turkish.

Just Emre.

And for once, you didn’t argue. You simply nodded. Something in his expression softened when you did.

“Good.”

He turned back toward the closet and began gathering what he thought you’d need, his movements becoming purposeful again. You watched him for a moment before your eyes fell toward the recorder still tucked safely inside his jacket.

“I’m keeping the recorder,” he said.

You looked at him.

“Why?”

His eyes flicked toward you, “Because you’re not leaving evidence behind.”

“You’re still not giving it back, are you?” Your eyebrows pulled together.

“No.”

“Emre.”

The faintest hint of a smile appeared on his face as he continued gathering your things.

“Pack your things.”

You sighed, shaking your head as you finally turned toward your belongings. “You’re insufferable.”

“I’ve been called worse.”

“I’m sure you have.”

He glanced at you again.

“Çok konuşuyorsun.”

You paused.

“What does that one mean?”

His mouth twitched, “You talk too much.”

You stared at him, “You’re one to talk.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him.

You sighed and finally began gathering what you needed, stuffing a few essentials into your bag while keeping a wary eye on Emre from the corner of your vision. He moved around your apartment with an ease that was almost unsettling, as though he had already memorized the layout despite having only been here for a short time.

It was strange to think about how quickly the evening had spiraled out of control. He had come to your apartment because Talon was looking for you. He had listened to a recording he absolutely had no right to hear. The two of you had argued more than once, he’d called you a brat, criticized your hiding place, and somehow managed to turn nearly every serious conversation into another argument. And yet, despite all of it, you felt safer with him standing in your bedroom than you had since you walked through your front door.

That realization was probably something you should keep to yourself. Especially considering he’d already heard the recording.

You had barely gathered a few things before Emre spoke from across the room.

“You don’t need much.”

You glanced over your shoulder. “You say that like I’m going on a weekend trip.”

“You aren’t.”

The bluntness of his answer made you pause. “Then where are we going?”

“Somewhere temporary.”

You stared at him. “That’s vague.”

“It is supposed to be.”

You zipped your bag with a little more force than necessary and shook your head. “You know, you really need to work on your communication skills.”

Emre looked over at you, seemingly offended by the accusation. “I communicate perfectly well.”

“You communicate like a brick wall.”

“I am standing right here.”

“Exactly.”

For a moment, the faintest amusement returned to his eyes. “You really don’t know when to stop.”

“Apparently not.”

You turned fully toward him, resting a hand against your bag. “And you really don’t know how to give a straight answer.”

“I give straight answers when they’re necessary.” He straightened fully. “We need to leave.” A tiny smile tugged at the corner of his mouth before he reached toward your bag. He picked it up and checked the weight as though making sure you hadn’t packed your entire apartment.

Emre looked at you for another moment. His expression softened, and this time, his gaze lingered on you a little longer than necessary. There was something almost contemplative about the way he looked at you, as though he were trying to decide how much he could safely say.

Then he stepped closer.

The difference in your height became immediately apparent as he approached, his towering presence forcing you to tilt your head slightly to meet his eyes. Yet there was no intimidation in his movements this time. He wasn’t approaching you to give another command or to pull you somewhere you didn’t want to go.

Instead, he simply stopped in front of you.

“Despite how annoying you are,” he began, and you couldn’t help giving him a small, offended look, “I care about your well-being.”

The teasing edge in his voice faded as he continued.

“I’ve left a lot behind. People. Places. Things I thought would stay with me forever.” His eyes lowered for a moment before returning to yours. “And I’ve watched my curiosity, my choices, and my trust get people hurt.”

His voice grew quieter.

“Your curiosity will get you killed if you keep walking into things you don’t understand.”

You frowned slightly, but before you could argue, he continued.

“I don’t want that to happen to you.”

Something in your chest tightened.

Emre held your gaze.

“I just need you to trust me. I’ll tell you everything you need to know when the time comes. I promise.”

You searched his face, trying to find the usual signs that he was hiding something behind his words. Of course he was. You were beginning to understand that secrecy was practically second nature to him.

But this felt different.

There was no command in his voice.

No threat.

Just a quiet request from someone who clearly wasn’t accustomed to asking anyone for trust.

Instead of grabbing your arm or giving you another order, Emre extended his hand toward you.

“Come.”

You hesitated. The gesture was surprisingly gentle. An offer rather than a command. You looked down at his outstretched hand before meeting his eyes again. For someone who had spent the last several minutes telling you that you needed to trust him, he seemed to understand exactly how much he was asking.

Slowly, you reached out and placed your hand in his.

His fingers closed around yours.

Warm.

Steady.

Human.

The simple contact grounded you more than you expected. After everything you’d just witnessed, there was something strangely reassuring about feeling his hand in yours and knowing that beneath all the machinery, all the secrets, and everything he refused to explain, the person standing in front of you was still there.

Still Emre.

Only Emre.

And somehow, that was the part that frightened you most.

—

Tags: @chocokuneho @liliessofvalleys

[sinsofbeauty]

Line of Work Pt. 2

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Emre Sarioglu x Journalist! Reader

Warnings: Entering Home without consent, even more slow burn, possible eventual smut? (Maybe if requested ;3)

Requested?: Yes

Overview: This time to yourself is getting to your head. Instead of collecting everything you gathered from your journalism gone wrong, you find yourself spending time thinking about Emre… and if you’d ever see him again.

Your apartment felt almost unnervingly quiet. It wasn’t unusual since most evenings silence was something you welcomed after long days spent chasing interviews, combing through public records, and arguing with editors over deadlines. Tonight however, it felt different. Your mind was searching desperately for something else to focus on.

Something that wasn’t him.

You tossed your keys into the ceramic bowl by the front door. They landed with a sharp clatter that echoed through the small apartment. Your jacket slipped from your shoulders and landed over the back of the couch. You kicked off your shoes without much thought before wandering toward the kitchen, switching on the light. Warm yellow filled the room, chasing away the darkness that had settled outside your windows.

Everything looked exactly as you’d left it. The stack of newspapers on the dining table, your half-finished notebook filled with scribbled interview questions. An untouched mug still sitting beside your laptop from the morning you’d rushed out after getting the anonymous tip that had sent you to the abandoned industrial district.

You stared at it for a long moment.

Then laugh quietly to yourself. “…Well,” you murmured, rubbing your face. “That certainly escalated.”

You filled the kettle with water out of habit. Only after setting it on the stove did you realize you weren’t actually thirsty. Your thoughts had wandered somewhere else. Back to a dimly lit maintenance corridor. Back to the echo of boots against concrete. Back to a pair of dark, watchful eyes that never seemed to stop assessing every room he entered.

Emre.

The name alone made your chest tighten in a way you couldn’t quite explain. You leaned against the kitchen counter, crossing your arms.

“This is ridiculous.”

You’d spent years interviewing politicians, police chiefs, activists, whistleblowers—even the occasional celebrity. You’d met dangerous people before. People who lied with practiced smiles. People who threatened lawsuits. People who slammed doors in your face. None of them had lingered in your thoughts after the story was over.

So why him?

He had pointed a gun at you. Locked you in a room. Scolded you more than once for wandering where you shouldn’t. Called you reckless.

More than once.

And yet…

Your mind refused to remember those moments first.

Instead you remembered…

—

Earlier…

The first thing you noticed after Emre left was the silence. Not complete silence, nothing in a place like this was ever truly quiet.

Beyond the reinforced walls, somewhere deep within the sprawling labyrinth of the facility, machinery droned with unwavering consistency. The sound was low and rhythmic, like the heartbeat of some enormous creature sleeping beneath layers of steel and concrete. Every few seconds, the ventilation system exhaled with a soft rush overhead, stirring the stale air before settling back into its endless cycle. Occasionally, footsteps echoed through distant hallways—faint enough that you couldn’t tell how many people there were or where they were headed, but close enough to remind you that life continued outside this room.

The realization settled heavily in your chest. You turned slowly, taking in the room now that you were alone. It was painfully ordinary, disappointingly so. There were no windows, no clocks, nothing that hinted at the time of day beyond the artificial fluorescent lights overhead that cast everything in a cold, sterile glow.

You hated the room instantly.

“Fantastic,” you muttered beneath your breath. Your own voice bounced back at you almost immediately, sounding strangely hollow in the enclosed space. “Of all the journalism specialties I could’ve picked…” Instead, you’d somehow managed to infiltrate an internationally feared terrorist organization’s hidden facility and were now sitting in what was almost certainly an interrogation room because curiosity had once again outweighed common sense.

Your laugh came out weak. “…Mom would’ve loved hearing about this.” The adrenaline that had carried you through the warehouse, down unfamiliar corridors, and into the heart of the facility slowly bled away, leaving behind something much quieter.

Just reinforced walls, locked doors, and the former Overwatch operative who had decided for reasons you still couldn’t fully understand, that locking you in here was somehow the safest option. Assuming he actually intended to let you leave at all. That particular thought refused to leave your mind.

You reached into your pocket and pulled out your phone. “No Service.” You stared at the words for several seconds before letting your arm fall with an exaggerated sigh. “Right.” You slid the phone back into your pocket and pushed yourself out of the chair.

You crossed the room in a handful of steps and wrapped your fingers around the door handle. Locked. Not exactly shocking, still annoying.

“Wonderful.”

Crossing your arms, you leaned your forehead briefly against the cool metal before stepping back. You turned around taking a couple steps as your finger made its way to your lips.

What else?

Your eyes wandered upward.

Any visible cameras?

Interrogation rooms usually didn’t advertise where the cameras were. The expensive ones were hidden. Your shoulders stiffened almost instinctively. Were they watching you? Some anonymous Talon security officer sitting in a monitoring room somewhere?

…Was Emre?

The thought lingered longer than you cared to admit. If he wanted information from you, he would’ve stayed. He hadn’t exactly seemed eager to interrogate you. If anything, he’d looked…

Annoyed.

Exhausted.

Like you’d somehow become the latest problem dropped into an already impossibly long list of problems.

Your head snapped toward the door as you heard the lock click, every muscle in your body tensing. The heavy metal door swung inward with a slow creak.

Emre stepped inside as though he’d never left. One hand rested casually in his pocket while the other held an old canvas bag. His gaze immediately found you standing in the center of the room, exactly where he’d left you.

He stopped, eyebrows lifting theatrically.

“Wow.” The word dripped with exaggerated admiration. “You do know how to follow instructions.” The corner of his mouth twitched into a smug grin that was almost infuriatingly self-satisfied.

Your eyes narrowed. “Oh, fuck you.”

A quiet chuckle escaped him, genuine amusement slipping through despite himself. “We’re not that acquainted, sweetheart.” He shut the door behind him with a soft click before setting the bag on the steel table.

Emre stayed near the closed door, his gaze fixed somewhere beyond it. You were beginning to think he never truly relaxed. Even now, with the room empty once more, his shoulders remained tense. His posture was straight, alert, every instinct seemingly prepared for another interruption.

It struck you then just how exhausting that must be. Living every day waiting for the next problem. “…Is it always like this?” you asked quietly.

“What?”

“You.”

For a moment, he simply looked at you. Then, almost imperceptibly, one corner of his mouth twitched. “I… don’t know what you mean.”

“Why didn’t you hand me over?”

Instead of answering, he crossed the room and reached for the old canvas bag resting in his hand. From inside, he pulled a folded jacket. He walked over and held it out to you.

“Wear this.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You’re recognizable.”

“I don’t think anyone here knows who I am.”

“They know you’re not one of them.”

You accepted the jacket slowly. It was heavier than it looked, the fabric worn from years of use. It smelled faintly of detergent, old leather, and coffee. Oddly…It smelled like him. You slipped it on without thinking. The sleeves hung past your hands. “It’s too big.”

“I noticed.”

“You could’ve warned me.”

“You’ll survive.” His expression softened for only a heartbeat. He moved back toward the door. “We’re leaving.”

Your heart skipped. “So… you’re really letting me go.”

“Be quiet.” He rested his hand against the door handle but didn’t open it immediately. “I should’ve let someone else deal with this.”

“But you didn’t.”

“No.”

“You keep saying that.”

“Because it’s true.”

You stood, smoothing the oversized jacket around yourself. Emre opened the door just enough to look into the corridor. Satisfied, he stepped back.

“Stay close.”

The hallway beyond was dim, lit only by scattered maintenance lights that left long stretches in shadow. The distant hum of machinery filled the silence between your footsteps. You followed half a step behind him. Every so often, he’d pause, listen, and wait. His head would turn slightly, attention caught by sounds you couldn’t make out. Each time, you found yourself watching him instead. The way his expression sharpened. The way years of training seemed to take over without effort. He never looked frightened. Only prepared.

As you both continued through the winding corridors, voices occasionally drifted from somewhere deeper in the facility. Each time, Emre’s pace slowed. Conversation stopped. The two of you waited without speaking until the distant voices disappeared again. You noticed something after the second pause. He always shifted his position slightly. Just enough that if someone rounded the corner unexpectedly…He would be the first person they saw. Not you. The realization settled quietly in your chest.

He was doing it on purpose.

Eventually, the industrial corridors gave way to a narrower maintenance passage. A faint breeze brushed against your face. Fresh air. Somewhere ahead, an exit. At the end of the passage, a weathered steel door stood slightly ajar. Beyond it, moonlight spilled across cracked pavement.

The city.

Freedom.

Emre stopped several feet from the exit. “You walk from here.”

You looked between him and the open doorway. “That’s it?”

“What were you expecting?”

“I don’t know.” You laughed softly. “A dramatic speech?”

For the first time that night, neither of you seemed eager to move. The silence stretched comfortably between you. Finally, Emre spoke.

“Don’t come back.” The words landed harder than you expected. “I might not be here next time.”

“I know.”

“If anyone asks what happened…”

“I won’t tell them.”

“If anyone follows you…”

“I’ll call the police.”

He almost smiled. “No.”

You frowned. “No?”

“If something comes from tonight…” His eyes held yours steadily. “If someone starts asking the wrong questions…” He took a slow breath. “I’ll find you.”

Your heartbeat stumbled. You searched his face for any hint of humor. There wasn’t any. “Is that supposed to be a threat?”

He shook his head once. “No.”

“Then what is it?”

For the first time since you’d met him…Emre didn’t have an answer. Or perhaps…He had one he wasn’t ready to say. Instead, he looked toward the city lights beyond the doorway.

“Go home.”

You wanted to ask another question. You wanted to ask a hundred. Instead, you nodded. “…Thank you.” He didn’t respond. You stepped through the doorway into the cool night air. After several paces, you looked back. The doorway was already empty.

He was gone.

—

Present…

Your recorder sat where you’d left it after getting home. For a long moment, you simply stared at the tiny device that sat on the desk next to you. Slowly, you picked it up, thumb hovering over the playback button. Part of you wanted to hear everything again.

Every conversation.

Every sarcastic remark.

Every muttered complaint in Turkish that you’d only understood because you’d looked up the translations afterward. Another part of you knew better. Some memories were clearer left in your mind than replayed through cheap speakers. He’d had every reason to hand you over. Every reason to walk away. Instead he hid you and escorted you out of one of the most dangerous places on Earth. And before disappearing back into the shadows, he’d looked you in the eye and said that if anything came of that night, he’d find you himself.

The tiny red light on the recorder blinked to life.

You turned it over in your hand for a moment, listening to the soft mechanical hum before bringing it closer. “…Personal recording,” you said quietly. “Not for publication.”

You stood from your desk, transitioning to your bed as you stared at the rain tracing uneven paths down the window.

“Emre Sarioglu.” The name lingered in the silence that followed. “An Ex-Overwatch operative. I think I came across his path today. When I first saw him, I expected… honestly? Someone colder.”

You laughed softly to yourself.

“I mean, he is grumpy. Impressively so. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who looked personally offended by every conversation they had.” You shook your head, smiling despite yourself. “He barely smiles. Every answer is either one word or sounds like he’s trying to end the conversation as quickly as possible. But…”

Your smile slowly faded. “…that’s not who he actually is. At least not my observations.” You reached over to your nightstand, absentmindedly turning the recorder between your fingers. “He pretends not to care. He acts irritated. He complains. He mutters to himself in his native tongue—Turkish whenever I do something reckless.” A small laugh escaped you. “Which… was admittedly more than once.”

Your expression softened.

“But every single time something happened…he was already moving.” You looked toward the darkened ceiling. “I don’t think he even realizes he does it. The first thing he does isn’t reach for his weapon. It’s to put himself between the danger… and whoever’s standing behind him.”

You remembered the maintenance corridor. The storage alcove. The way he’d instinctively stepped in front of you without thinking. The memory made your chest tighten. “He kept positioning himself between me and everyone else. He probably thinks I didn’t notice.”

A thoughtful silence settled over the room. “Though he doesn’t trust easily.” You smiled faintly. “I don’t think he trusts anyone. He watches every doorway, sound, movement, like he never really relaxes.”

Your fingers traced absent circles across the blanket. “I can’t imagine what kind of life forces someone to live like that.” Another long pause. “Every time I managed to catch him off guard however,” You chuckled softly. “His whole face changed. For a second… he looked lighter.”

You lowered your eyes to the recorder. “I don’t know why he protected me and I definitely don’t know why he let me leave.” A tired laugh escaped you. “I should be calling my editor. Instead… I’m sitting in my apartment wondering if he sleeps at night.” You covered your face with one hand. “…That’s… concerning.”

Silence stretched for several seconds. When you spoke again, your voice carried a quiet sincerity.

“I don’t think he’s a bad man.” You searched for the words carefully. “…I think he’s a good man who’s been forced to survive in a place that keeps asking him to become someone else. And every day he fights to remember who he used to be.” The rain tapped softly against the window.

“I hope he wins.”

You reached toward the recorder, your thumb hovering over the stop button. Then one last thought escaped before you could stop it.

“In some fucked up way… I hope I get to see him again.”

The words hung in the room. You stared at the blinking red light for several seconds. Then, with a quiet click the recording ended. Your feet found its way on the carpet of the floor beneath you, ready to start your nightly routine until you froze.

Three knocks. Evenly spaced. Deliberate on your front door.

You frowned, instinctively glancing toward the clock. Less than twenty-four hours. The thought settled heavily in your stomach before you could make sense of it. No one was supposed to know where you lived. You hadn’t told your editor where you’d been. You hadn’t spoken to anyone except to reassure them you were alive. There shouldn’t have been anyone at your door especially this late.

Another knock echoed through the apartment.

The hair on the back of your neck stood up. Your mind immediately raced to the worst possibility. Had Talon found you?

You stayed perfectly still, listening. The rain continued drumming softly against the windows, but beneath it you caught the faint creak of the hallway floor outside. Someone shifted their weight. Then another person. There were at least two of them. Your pulse hammered in your ears. You looked around your apartment, searching desperately for somewhere—anywhere—to hide.

The closet?

Too obvious.

The bathroom?

Nowhere to go if they came looking.

Your eyes landed on the gap beneath your bed. You stared at it with open disbelief. “…Seriously?”

It was humiliating.

It was the sort of hiding place people joked about in bad movies, and if anyone had been standing there, you could already imagine the look they would have given you before telling you exactly how ineffective it was. But you weren’t looking for a perfect hiding place. You were looking for one that might buy you a few seconds.

Without wasting another moment, you switched off the lamp beside your bed, dropped to your hands and knees, and slid beneath the frame just as you heard the front door unlock.

Your heart nearly stopped.

The door opened.

Heavy footsteps crossed the threshold, followed almost immediately by a second, lighter set. The door clicked shut behind them. From where you lay pressed against the wall beneath the bed, all you could see were shadows moving across the floor.

“Doesn’t look like anyone’s home,” a woman’s voice observed after a brief silence. She sounded calm. Professional.

“And you’re sure this is where she lives?”

“All available leads point here.”

The familiar voice made your breath catch.

Emre.

Relief and panic collided so violently that you almost laughed. Of all the people who could have walked through your front door, it had to be him. Still, you remained exactly where you were. Emre wasn’t the sort of man who missed details. If he was here, he wasn’t here by accident. From beneath the bed, all you could see were boots crossing the bedroom doorway before disappearing again. Their voices drifted toward the living room. There was an ease between them, the kind that came from years of working together.

You heard drawers opening somewhere in the living room before the woman spoke again.

“You know,” she said casually, “for someone you insist is just a civilian, you’ve spent an awful lot of time learning about her.”

There was a brief pause before Emre answered.

“I learned what I needed.”

His voice was as controlled as you remembered, clipped and almost emotionless. Every word sounded measured, as though he refused to waste even a syllable.

“Is that what we’re calling it?” she asked, amusement creeping into her voice.

“Freya.”

He didn’t raise his voice.

He didn’t need to.

The warning was unmistakable.

She ignored it anyway.

“I’m only saying it’s interesting. You usually forget civilians exist the moment a mission ends.”

“This wasn’t a mission.”

“No?”

“No.”

The single word came without hesitation.

You frowned beneath the bed.

Freya seemed just as surprised.

“You’ve been thinking about her.”

“I’ve been evaluating the situation.”

“Mhm.”

You could almost hear her smile.

“And what exactly has your evaluation concluded?”

Silence settled over the apartment.

You listened to Emre’s footsteps moving slowly through the living room before they entered the hallway. Unlike Freya, who seemed content to glance around, Emre observed. You remembered him doing the same thing the night before. Every room he entered became something to read. His eyes lingered on exits, blind spots, objects that had been moved recently, anything that didn’t belong.

The floor creaked beneath the weight, before your bedroom door opened. Your eyes look at the feet standing in the doorway. Walking inside, the person makes their way to your desk. Legal pads lay stacked beneath newspaper clippings, several pages covered in hurried handwriting that only their author could probably decipher. Different colored sticky notes protruded from nearly every notebook, some marked with dates, others with names circled repeatedly in thick black ink.

“İnatçı kız…” Emre’s voice was heard a lot more clearly now. “You really do carry your work home.”

Your eyes widened at the voice, heart palpitating at the source of memory.

“Emre,” Freya who you heard earlier wandered over from the kitchen before pausing briefly in the doorway. “You know…” she began, watching him with quiet curiosity. “For someone who insists she’s just a civilian, you’ve spent an awful lot of time studying her apartment.”

“Don’t start.” He responds. “I’m just studying the room.”

“Mhm, and what did you find?”

He glanced slowly around again. His eyes settled on the overfilled bookshelf. He nodded faintly. “She likes understanding people.”

Freya folded her arms as she continued looking around the bedroom, her gaze drifting from the crowded bookshelf to the stack of newspapers balanced precariously on your desk. “Well, it doesn’t look like she’s here,” she said after a moment. “If she came home at all, she’s gone now.”

Unlike her, Emre didn’t immediately agree.

He remained standing where he was, his attention lingering on the room itself rather than the absence of its owner. There was something almost methodical about the way he observed the smallest details. His eyes passed over the indentation in the pillows, the jacket draped carelessly over the back of your desk chair, and the mug sitting beside your laptop with a faint coffee ring staining the coaster beneath it. Every object felt… personal. He found himself wondering how many evenings you’d spent sitting beside that window while rain fell outside. How many late nights had been spent surrounded by coffee mugs and unfinished articles. How many stories had begun in this room.

“…She’s messy.” Emre shook his head.

You could only make a face at his remark. However his words faced silence as some items started to shift in your room.

“What are you thinking?” Freya asked, noticing his silence.

He considered the question before answering. “If she came back and noticed unfamiliar people watching the building…” His gaze shifted briefly toward the rain-speckled window. “…she wouldn’t come inside. She’d assume something was wrong.”

Freya nodded slowly. “That’s… actually possible.”

“It is likely.”

She studied him for another second before letting out a small sigh. “I’ll check the perimeter one more time.”

“I’ll finish here.”

“You don’t want backup?”

Emre finally looked at her, his expression as unreadable as ever. “If she’s here, she’ll be frightened enough already. The fewer strangers in her apartment, the better.”

Freya’s brows lifted almost imperceptibly. She looked as though she wanted to comment on the unusual amount of consideration in his statement, but thought better of it. Instead, she simply nodded. “Call me if you find anything.”

“I will.”

A moment later, the apartment door opened and shut once more. Silence settled over the room and beneath the bed, you remained perfectly still. You counted the seconds in your head, waiting for Emre to follow her.

He didn’t.

Instead, you heard the slow creak of the floorboards as he continued walking through your bedroom. He wasn’t searching anymore.

He was… looking.

Really looking.

His fingertips brushed lightly over the spines of the books lining your shelf, careful not to pull any of them free. “‘Investigative Ethics,’” he read quietly. A faint scoff escaped him. “You actually read this.”

Despite the situation, you had to fight the urge to scoff a smile. Of course that would be the first title he commented on.

His hand drifted farther along the shelf. “‘The Art of the Interview.’” This time, a quiet breath escaped him that was dangerously close to a laugh. “Tabii…” he murmured under his breath. “I suppose that explains why you never stopped asking questions.”

His voice lacked the irritation you had grown accustomed to hearing whenever he spoke to you directly. Without you standing in front of him to challenge every answer, there was something strangely relaxed about him. Not relaxed enough to let his guard down.

Just… less guarded.

He continued down the shelf, reading titles silently to himself before his attention shifted elsewhere. His gaze landed on the photographs sitting atop your dresser. He picked up one of the frames carefully. You couldn’t see which picture he was looking at from where you were hiding, but you knew every photograph in that room by heart. Friends from college. Family. Your parents laughing at a beach years ago. A candid picture of you and your coworkers after publishing your first front-page story.

He studied it for a long moment before setting it back down exactly where he had found it.

“You keep reminders,” he said quietly, more to himself than anyone else. His eyes wandered across the room once again. “You really don’t know when to stop.”

There wasn’t any irritation in the statement. If anything… It sounded almost impressed.

You watched his boots turn toward the bed. Your stomach dropped. Resting near the pillow was the one thing you had forgotten to put away.

The recorder.

“…Ah.”

He reached down and picked it up carefully, turning it over in his hands. For a brief moment, he simply looked at it. His thumb traced the edge of the plastic casing before he let out a quiet breath through his nose.

“This is probably an invasion of privacy.”

The apartment remained silent. He glanced toward the closed bedroom door as though weighing the decision. Then he looked back at the recorder.

“…You’ll be angry with me either way.”

There was the faintest hint of dry humor in his voice.

“So I may as well deserve it.”

Before you could silently beg the universe to intervene, his thumb pressed the playback button. Static crackled softly through the speaker. Then your voice filled the room.

“Personal recording. Not for publication.”

Emre’s eyebrows rose ever so slightly.

“…Not an interview.”

He lowered himself onto the edge of the mattress, the springs creaking quietly beneath his weight. One elbow rested against his knee as he listened, his expression settling back into its usual composed neutrality. Even though you couldn’t see it, at first he looked mildly uncomfortable.

Then curious.

Hearing his name spoken so carefully caught him off guard. He hadn’t realized how rarely people simply said his name anymore. Usually it came attached to a rank. A mission. A report. Not…This.

“Heh, you know who I am.” He listened as you described meeting him. “Figures.”

As the recording continued, he found himself listening more carefully than he intended. When you admitted that you had expected someone colder, the corner of his mouth twitched almost imperceptibly.

“I’ve been called worse,” he muttered. Then came the part about him being grumpy. His eyes closed briefly. “Doğru…” he admitted under his breath.

When you laughed about translating the Turkish he muttered whenever you ignored his instructions, genuine surprise flickered across his face.

“You looked them up?” He let out a quiet, disbelieving huff. “Meraklı…” He shouldn’t have expected anything less.

Then your recording changed. You spoke about the way he instinctively stepped between danger and everyone else. About how he always watched every doorway. About how he never seemed to relax. His gaze slowly lowered toward the recorder in his hands.

“So you noticed…” The words were barely audible. He hadn’t realized he still did those things.

Not consciously.

They were habits now. Reflexes burned so deeply into muscle memory that he no longer questioned them. He simply moved.

Protected.

Survived.

Then your voice grew quieter. “I don’t think he’s a bad man.”

Emre’s fingers tightened around the recorder.

“I think he’s a good man who’s been forced to survive in a place that keeps asking him to become someone else.”

Something inside him seemed to stop. The room felt impossibly still. People had called him many things throughout his life. No one had called him a good man in a very long time. He stared down at the recorder without really seeing it as your final words played through the tiny speaker.

“I hope he wins.”

The sentence lingered in the silence long after your recorded voice had moved on. Then came the last confession.

“In some fucked up way… I hope I get to see him again.”

The recording ended with a quiet click.

For several seconds, Emre didn’t move. Rain tapped gently against the window. The apartment was silent except for the steady rhythm of water striking the glass. Finally, he let out a slow breath and rubbed a hand across his face.

“Allah Allah…” he murmured quietly, almost sounding bewildered.

He looked down at the recorder again before a small, helpless smile appeared—a smile so brief that anyone blinking might have missed it.

“You really are trouble,” he said softly.

Then, without warning, his arm dropped over the side of the bed. The recorder dangled loosely from his fingers. From beneath the bed, it swung gently into your field of vision.

You froze.

His smile disappeared, replaced by the composed expression you knew so well. “I’ve spent enough years clearing buildings to know when I’m not alone,” he said calmly. There wasn’t an ounce of accusation in his voice, only quiet certainty.

“You can come out now.”

[sinsofbeauty]

Line of Work

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Emre Sarioglu x Journalist! Reader

Warnings: Weapon usage, hostage situation, sassy reader, bit of slow burn, possible eventual smut?

Requested: Nah

Overview: The big break is finally here. After countless amounts of hours and research trying to find a new story to bring to your publisher, you finally discover an outlet to share with the world. A powerful story that is willing to spark interest in millions, if only you weren’t caught in the process.

A/n: Enjoy! Requests are open :)

Night had a way of making the industrial district feel like the world had quietly forgotten it. The city lights in the distance still glowed against the clouds, painting them faint orange, but out here the darkness seemed thicker somehow—like it settled between the empty buildings and refused to move.

Rust coated the old warehouses like a spreading disease. Long streaks of oxidized metal crawled down steel walls that had once been painted corporate blue or safety yellow decades ago. Loading docks sagged inward where trucks no longer arrived and chain-link fences leaned crookedly where their posts had been slowly bent by wind, time, or someone forcing their way through.

Weeds had reclaimed the asphalt. Thin green stems pushed through cracked pavement where eighteen-wheelers once rolled through daily, carrying cargo across the city. Now the only sounds were the wind brushing against loose sheet metal and the occasional hollow clang of something shifting somewhere deeper in the abandoned district. The air smelled faintly of oil, damp concrete, and something metallic that lingered unpleasantly in the back of the throat.

Most people avoided this part of the city entirely.

Not because it was empty.

But because it wasn’t.

Cities had their own quiet ecosystems of information. Conversations passed between people who worked the late hours—the ones who saw things the rest of the population never noticed. Taxi drivers lingering outside nightclubs. Bartenders wiping glasses at two in the morning. Security guards staring out across empty parking lots.

People like that heard things.

Rumors traveled fast through those circles, and over the last few months, those rumors had begun circling the same name again and again.

Talon.

Unmarked cargo vehicles appearing after midnight with strange shipments disappearing between loading points. Figures dressed in black tactical gear moving through areas of the city that technically shouldn’t have had any activity left at all.

None of it had been confirmed… which was the frustrating part. No pictures, names, or official investigations. Just whispers, but whispers were exactly how stories began. Which was why you were crouched beside a rusted maintenance door behind one of the largest warehouse buildings in the district.

Your fingers brushed lightly across the chipped paint while you examined the handle and lock. The door itself looked ancient. The paint had peeled away in large flakes and the metal beneath showed years of corrosion. But mounted beside the door was something very different. A small electronic keypad.

Modern and clean. Looks to be recently installed. Your pulse quickened. That alone was suspicious enough to justify your trip out here tonight.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the empty street behind you. The darkness felt heavier the longer you looked at it. No streetlights worked out here anymore. The city had stopped bothering with maintenance years ago after most of the businesses shut down and relocated closer to the port. The skyline glowed faintly several miles away, but out here the shadows felt thick and quiet. Your bag strap dug slightly into your shoulder as you shifted your weight.

Inside the bag were the tools of your trade. A compact camera, small digital audio recorder, tablet loaded with note-taking software, a few extra batteries, and some overused pens. Nothing flashy or dramatic. Just the equipment an investigative journalist might carry when chasing a story.

Your editor’s voice echoed clearly in your mind from earlier that afternoon.

“If there’s even a chance Talon is operating out of that district, we need proof. Not rumors. Not speculation. Proof.”

Proof. That was the currency of journalism. Without it, everything was just noise.

You exhaled slowly and wrapped your fingers around the door handle. To your mild surprise, it turned easily.

Unlocked.

Your brows furrowed briefly. “Well… that’s promising,” you muttered under your breath.

The door creaked as you pushed it open however, the sound froze you instantly. The hinge groaned softly into the night air—louder than it should have been in the quiet. You waited, your breath held only for nothing to happen. No voices, footsteps, or alarms that would send you bolting back outside. After several seconds you slipped inside and carefully pulled the door closed behind you.

The temperature dropped immediately.

The air inside the building felt colder than outside, carrying the scent of metal dust and stale machinery. Emergency lights lined the corridor walls, casting dim red illumination across the concrete floor. Your eyes slowly adjusted. The building wasn’t abandoned. Not even remotely.

Your heartbeat picked up as you pulled the small audio recorder from your pocket and switched it on. “Entry point appears to be a rear maintenance corridor,” you whispered quietly. “Interior lighting operational. Power supply active somewhere deeper inside the building.”

You slipped the recorder back into your pocket and stepped forward. Your footsteps echoed faintly in the corridor. Every sound seemed louder than it should have been. The hallway branched left after several meters. One of the side doors stood partially open, revealing rows of stacked metal crates inside a storage room.

You pushed the door slightly wider. Inside were dozens of large shipping containers stacked neatly in rows. Most were labeled only with serial numbers. But a few bore unfamiliar insignias—symbols that definitely didn’t belong to any normal commercial supplier. Your phone came out instantly.

Click.

Click.

Click.

Evidence gathered.

Your mind was already assembling the article in your head: Underground Talon Activity Discovered Within City Limits. Your editor would lose their mind. It only made you step deeper into the corridor, turning down another hallway where the faint hum of electronics grew louder.

That was when it happened.

A quiet metallic click echoed behind you, making your entire body go rigid.

“Don’t move.”

The voice wasn’t loud but it carried absolute authority. Your heart slammed against your ribs.

“Turn around, slowly.”

You swallowed hard, then turned. The first thing you saw was the gun aimed directly at your chest. The man holding it stood several feet away, partially obscured by shadow where the red emergency lighting didn’t fully reach. He stepped forward slightly. The light caught him just enough for you to see the details. Dark tactical gear. Military posture. Eyes that moved quickly, studying you in seconds. The only source of light from him was on his chest in a weird shape of an eye. Your observations were short lived as he stepped forward, the dim red glow catching his features.

Your hands lifted automatically.

“Okay,” you began cautiously. “Let’s—”

Cold metal pressed against your lips. The gun barrel stopped your words instantly.

“Konuşma.”

The word snapped out sharp making you blink heavily. The man sighed quietly and muttered something under his breath in Turkish before looking back at you.

“Quiet.”

Your glare would have been impressive under better circumstances. But the gun pressed against your mouth made arguing slightly difficult. Up close now, something about him clicked in your mind.

Recognition.

Not personal, but familiar. From hours of reading reports and archived articles about global security operations. You stared at his face more carefully. Your brain slowly pieced together the identity. Former operative. Special forces background who disappeared shortly after the collapse of Overwatch.

Emre Sarioglu.

Your brain stalled briefly. You were currently being held at gunpoint by a man who had once worked for the most famous peacekeeping organization in modern history.

Fantastic.

He slowly lowered the gun just enough to move it away from your mouth. But it didn’t move far. “What are you doing here?” he asked.

You exhaled slowly. “I’m a reporter.”

The silence that followed stretched longer than you expected. Emre blinked once. Then again. “You broke into a facility,” he said slowly, gesturing toward your press badge with the gun barrel, “with a press badge.” He rubbed a hand across his face and muttered something else under his breath. “Ciddi olamazsın…”

“It’s called undercover journalism.”

He stared at you like you had just confessed to robbing a bank in broad daylight. “Bu inanılmaz…”

You frowned. “What was that?”

“Nothing good.” His eyes moved across you again, scanning your bag, your clothes, your stance. You didn’t look like a spy. You didn’t move like one either. Spies were careful.

Calculated.

You had wandered into one of the most dangerous organizations in the world with a notebook and a recorder. Emre let out a slow breath through his nose. “Either you are extremely brave,” he said quietly, “or incredibly stupid.”

“I’m passionate.”

“Reckless.”

“You—.”

He stepped closer. The gun lifted again. This time the barrel tapped lightly against the underside of your chin. “Stop talking.” Your jaw tightened as he tilted your chin upward with the weapon. “Look at me.”

You did.

Up close, his eyes were sharper than they had appeared at a distance. Focused. Alert. Evaluating every micro-expression crossing your face.

“Who sent you?”

“My editor.”

“What outlet?”

You told him.

“Why here?”

“Because Talon is operating out of this district.”

He studied you carefully. You didn’t hesitate. Didn’t look away. Didn’t show the tiny signals of someone constructing a lie under pressure. Emre exhaled slowly. Then he lowered the gun slightly.

“Hm.”

Relief loosened your shoulders a little.

“Great,” you said. “So if we could skip the whole armed-hostage situation—”

His hand snapped forward and grabbed your wrist.

“Gel.”

“What—“ You gasped.

“Move.”

“That’s not an explanation.”

“I don’t need to give you one.” He pulled you down the hallway. “You’re coming with me.”

“Why?!”

He muttered something under his breath again, “Başımı belaya sokacaksın…”

The deeper you went into the building, the clearer it became that this place was very much operational. Security doors lined the hallways. Computer terminals glowed faintly behind glass windows. Heavy reinforced doors marked storage rooms that clearly contained equipment far more advanced than anything left behind in abandoned warehouses.

Your reporter instincts absorbed everything. Which was exactly why Emre stopped suddenly. He looked back at you with a quiet sigh.

“Stop looking around like that.”

“I’m observing.”

“You’re gathering information.” He scoffed.

“That’s literally my job.”

He opened a nearby door and pushed you inside. The room was small. A desk and two metal chairs. A ventilation unit humming quietly overhead. It looked like an interrogation room—if interrogation rooms also had a microwave and a mini fridge shoved awkwardly into the corner. Emre closed the door behind you, hearing the lock click.

“You know this is illegal.” You crossed your arms, as there was nothing else you could do.

“Illegal?” He smirked. “Don’t make me laugh, sweetheart.” He gestured lazily toward the chair. “You’re the one who broke into a Talon base.”

“That’s journalism.”

“That’s trespassing.” He pointed again. “Sit.”

“I—”

The gun lifted.

“Don’t make me ask twice.”

Without another thought you sat down. He remained standing for a moment, pacing slowly across the small room like someone trying to work through a complicated problem. Then he spoke quietly to himself. “Ne yapacağım şimdi…”

Tilting your head you ask, “Do you always talk to yourself when kidnapping journalists?”

“I’m not kidnapping you.”

“You locked me in a room.” You rebutted.

“Call it temporary containment.” He scoffed. “Until I figure out what to do with you.”

“That’s kidnapping with extra steps.”

With a swift gesture of his arm, his gun lifted once more. Before you could speak, the barrel pressed gently beneath your chin once more. “Stop arguing.” You glared at him. Instead of pulling away, he slowly traced the barrel along your jawline again, lifting your chin until your eyes met his. The movement wasn’t aggressive but it was firm.

Deliberate.

“Listen carefully,” he said quietly. “You walked into a Talon facility tonight. If anyone other than me finds you wandering these halls with a recorder and camera, they will assume you are a spy.” Your stomach tightened. “They won’t ask questions.”

“And then?” you asked softly.

He held your gaze. “They won’t keep you alive long enough for answers.” The silence stretched heavy between you. Eventually he lowered the gun. “You’re lucky I even believe you,” he said.

You blinked, “That was fast.” Hope flickered. “So you’re letting me go.”

He leaned back slightly, “No.”

Your mouth fell open, “What do you mean no?”

“You’ve already seen too much.”

“About what?!”

“You’ve seen the facility layout. Storage rooms. Security points.”

“That’s barely the interesting part of the story!”

“Exactly.” His eyes squinting slightly at you.

Your frustration flared immediately, “You cannot just detain a journalist!”

“You’ve got quite a mouth for someone staring down a gun,” he said calmly. “Would you rather I hand you over to Talon and let them decide your fate?”

The anger drained slightly from your expression. You didn’t answer. He nodded once.

“Thought so.” He crouched slightly, lowering himself to eye level with you. “Look,” he said quietly. “I don’t want to kill you. But keep running that mouth and my patience might run a bullet through that pretty little face.”

You huffed, making him smirk in amusement at your stubbornness. He removed himself from you, making sure you stayed sitting before going to the door and grabbing the handle. With a swift motion it opens, and he turns his head slightly.

“Stay here and don’t move. Trust me girl,” he said. “I’ll find you, so don’t make me look.”

Then he left, with the door shutting behind him. You couldn’t believe you got caught into this situation. Whether he was ex-overwatch or not, you weren’t planning on staying here for long. So you waited.

Minutes passed.

Maybe more.

Your thoughts stirred as you wondered if you should peak out to see the stillness of the empty hallway. What if you just retraced your steps and got out of there? As long as you didn’t get caught it should be fine right?

Or so you thought.

[sinsofbeauty]

Where the Wind is Quiet

Fandom: Overwatch

Pairing: Ramattra x Ugly! Reader

Warnings: Topics of bullying, slow burn, progressive relationship

Requested: Nope

Overview: It’s been a while since you have felt a moment of peace. Every time you try to go forward in life, you’re reminded of your outer self not being so appealing. You’ve let yourself be taken to an abandoned building in the far outskirts of Null Sector to escape it all, only to make an unexpected encounter with its leader. You didn’t expect it to be as calming as the wind.

A/n: An AU that I had an idea about! Wanted to write it as I have been dead for a long time and have been into this fandom for a while. Lmk if you guys would like me to continue this into a series! Feel free to request future OW content :3

The outskirts of the city had a way of swallowing sound.

Even the wind seemed quieter here, whispering across broken concrete and rusted metal structures that had long ago been abandoned by the humans who once used them. Empty warehouses leaned into each other like tired giants, their windows shattered or boarded shut. Stray sheets of corrugated metal rattled faintly whenever the breeze picked up, creating hollow, distant echoes that drifted through the skeletal remains of the district.

Nature had started reclaiming pieces of the place. Thin weeds pushed stubbornly through cracks in the pavement. Moss crept across damp concrete walls where rainwater pooled. The faint scent of rust and dust lingered in the air. Out past the last working streetlights and the reach of the bus routes was where the territory of Null Sector began to bleed quietly into the rest of the world.

Humans avoided it.

…Most of them, anyway.

News broadcasts had spent years painting this area as dangerous ground. Footage of skirmishes between omnics and security forces played on loop in the media. Commentators spoke about “containment zones,” about “heightened risk,” about places ordinary citizens simply shouldn’t go.

The warnings had worked, roads here were empty most nights.

But you didn’t listen to warnings very well.

Or maybe you were just tired of letting the world decide where you were allowed to exist.

Your shoes scraped against the metal rungs of the ladder as you climbed slowly toward the rooftop you had been visiting for weeks now. The ladder was old—older than you probably were. The paint had long since peeled away, leaving dull steel exposed to years of weather. Every step produced a faint metallic creak, the sound hollow and echoing through the abandoned building’s frame.

You moved carefully, testing each rung before putting your full weight on it.

The building itself had once been some sort of industrial facility—maybe a factory or storage warehouse. Now it stood empty and forgotten, its interior gutted by time and neglect. Dust coated nearly every surface inside. The stairwells had collapsed years ago, leaving the exterior ladder as the only way up.

Which was exactly why you liked it.

No one else ever bothered.

You paused halfway up for a moment, catching your breath, your fingers curling tighter around the cool metal. The steel felt cold against your palms despite the lingering warmth of the late afternoon.

The sun was already beginning to sink.

The sky stretched wide above the ruined skyline, painted in fading streaks of amber, gold, and soft violet. The distant city glittered faintly on the horizon, its skyscrapers reflecting the last light of the day like glass towers catching fire.

This time of day was your favorite. Everything softened when the sun went down. Even the city looked gentler from far away. Up here, the noise of traffic disappeared. The shouting crowds, the sirens, the constant pressure of people moving around you—it all faded into the background. The world slowed down.

For a little while, it felt like you could breathe.

You climbed the last few rungs and pulled yourself over the edge of the roof, boots crunching against loose gravel as you stood. Small pebbles shifted beneath your soles, skittering softly across the concrete.

A slow breath filled your lungs. Cool air brushed against your face, carrying with it the distant smell of the city and the faint metallic scent of rusted infrastructure.

Quiet.

For a brief moment, it felt like the world had forgotten you existed.

Until your body froze.

At the far end of the rooftop sat a tall figure cloaked in dark fabric, a silhouette sharp against the dying light of the sun. They hadn’t moved, not even slightly. For a heartbeat, you thought maybe it was some piece of machinery left behind. The building had plenty of those—old pipes, broken generators, abandoned equipment.

But then the wind shifted.

The breeze tugged at the figure’s cloak, the dark fabric fluttering lightly before catching under the hood. The movement pushed the hood backward just enough for the figure to reach up and remove it completely.

Metal caught the sunlight. Not dull steel, polished plating.

Your stomach tightened instantly. You didn’t even need to see the full details of his faceplate to know exactly who it was.

Everyone did. Anyone who had paid attention to the news in the last decade would recognize him.

Leader of Null Sector.

Ramattra.

Even sitting still, there was something commanding about him. Something heavy in the air around him, like the quiet pressure that builds just before a storm breaks across the horizon. His posture was perfectly straight, composed in a way that didn’t feel relaxed so much as controlled. The fading sunlight traced the edges of his mechanical frame, outlining the broad structure of his shoulders beneath the dark cloak. His silhouette looked almost carved against the skyline behind him.

Your instinct told you to leave immediately. Every survival instinct screamed at you to quietly climb back down that ladder and pretend you had never come here.

Yet your feet refused to move.

Maybe it was curiosity or stubbornness. Or maybe you were simply tired of being chased out of places you liked. Regardless, he hadn’t acknowledged you. If he heard you climbing the ladder, he gave no sign of it.

Carefully, you stepped farther onto the rooftop. The gravel crunched beneath your shoes. The sound seemed impossibly loud in the quiet evening air. Your shoulders tensed slightly with every step, waiting for some reaction.

Still, he didn’t move. He remained seated at the edge of the roof, his gaze fixed on the distant skyline. The city lights were beginning to flicker on in the distance. You walked across the roof and sat down several feet away from him, leaving a respectful distance between the two of you. Close enough that you could hear him if he spoke—but far enough that you weren’t intruding.

Your legs folded loosely beneath you as you leaned forward, resting your elbows against your knees.

For a long moment, neither of you spoke.

The sun continued sinking behind the distant skyline while your fingers fidgeted together unconsciously, rubbing against each other as nervous energy crept into your hands.

“I didn’t know someone else came up here.” Your voice sounded quieter than you intended, almost shy as it slipped out into the open air. The words felt small against the wide rooftop and the endless stretch of sky above it.

For a moment, you glanced toward him.

Then just as quickly, your gaze darted away again, settling on the distant horizon where the evening light bled slowly across the skyline. “I come here sometimes,” you added, rubbing your hands together absentmindedly as if trying to warm them. “It’s peaceful.”

Silence followed.

The wind brushed across the rooftop again, whispering over cracked concrete and rustling through loose gravel. Tiny pieces lifted briefly into the air before falling back down with soft, scattered ticks. Without realizing it, your shoulders slowly curled inward, your posture folding into itself in that familiar way your body had learned over the years.

“I can leave if—”

“Remain.”

The word cut cleanly through the air. You startled slightly, your head turning toward him. His voice was deep—low enough that it seemed to resonate somewhere inside your chest rather than simply reaching your ears. There was no anger in it. No irritation. No hostility.

Just certainty.

You hesitated for a moment, uncertain what to do with that command, before slowly settling back into your seated position on the gravel. “…Okay.” The stones shifted quietly beneath you as you adjusted.

For several long minutes, neither of you spoke again. Yet something had changed. You could feel his attention. It rested on you like an unseen weight—steady, focused. Observing.

Eventually curiosity got the better of you.

You glanced sideways. Ramattra’s head had turned slightly in your direction. The narrow slits of his eyes glowed faintly red in the dimming light, their focus locked entirely on you.

Your stomach flipped.

You immediately looked away again, staring stubbornly at the gravel beneath your shoes. Your fingers began rubbing together nervously. “…Sorry,” you murmured after a moment, keeping your eyes down. “I talk when I’m nervous.”

For a moment, he didn’t respond. Then you heard the faint mechanical adjustment of his posture as he shifted slightly where he sat.

“You shrink yourself.”

The comment caught you completely off guard. You blinked and looked up at him. “What?”

His head tilted, studying you with a quiet, almost analytical precision. “When you speak,” he said calmly, “your shoulders fold inward. Your gaze lowers.”

Almost instinctively, you straightened a little. Then realized, with mild embarrassment, that you had just proven his point.

“You make yourself smaller.”

Heat crept slowly into your cheeks. “I… didn’t realize I was doing that.”

The wind moved gently across the rooftop, tugging faintly at the edges of his cloak as it shifted behind him.

“Why?” he asked.

The question lingered in the space between you. You stared down at your hands for a moment, picking at a loose thread on your sleeve.

“It’s probably habit,” you said with a weak shrug. “Where I grew up… people had a lot of opinions about appearances.” The words came out quieter than you intended. “They used to call me ugly… among other things.”

You let out a small laugh, soft and almost apologetic. The sound echoed faintly across the empty rooftop before fading into the wind. “Or when they didn’t say it out loud, you could tell they were thinking it.” Your shoe nudged a pebble across the concrete, sending it skittering away. “I guess it just… sticks after a while.”

Ramattra remained silent, but you could feel the weight of his attention resting on you. Something about it made the words keep coming.

“I mean… people like things to look a certain way,” you continued quietly. “Symmetrical faces, clear skin, perfect bodies.” You rubbed the back of your neck awkwardly. “If you don’t match that, suddenly you’re a problem.”

You gave a small shrug.

“Hell, even finding a job gets harder.”

The silence stretched again, longer this time. For a moment, you wondered if you had said too much.

Then he spoke.

“What is the definition of ‘ugly’?”

You blinked.

“…Not appealing?”

“Unpleasant or repulsive, especially in appearance,” he replied, still calm. “However, it may also refer to something involving violence or unpleasantness.”

You looked at him, confused for a moment before realizing what he was doing. “…Yeah.”

“That is the human definition.” Ramattra rose slowly to his feet. The movement made you realize just how tall he really was.

Omnics were built differently than humans—stronger frames, broader shoulders, and movements that carried a quiet, deliberate power. His mechanical joints moved with smooth precision as he stepped closer. Just close enough that you could see the faint glow behind the narrow slits of his eyes.

His gaze moved across your face slowly, studying you the way someone might examine a piece of art. “I do not see ugliness.”

Your brow furrowed slightly.

“…You don’t?”

“You are symmetrical within expected biological variance.”

You snorted softly, “That’s not really how humans decide things.”

“I am not human.”

“…Fair.”

You rubbed your arm awkwardly. “…Omnics don’t really look at me weird.”

“Because we do not share human beauty hierarchies.”

You glanced up at him.

“…I like that.” The admission slipped out before you could stop it. “Omnics just… treat me like a person.” Your voice softened slightly. “Humans usually notice the wrong things first.”

Ramattra watched you quietly.

“…They denied you employment.”

You looked up quickly.

“How did you—”

“You mentioned difficulty finding work.”

“Oh.” You scratched the back of your neck. “Yeah. Interviews don’t go great.”

“Why?”

You hesitated before answering, “Some businesses want ‘presentable staff.’” The bitterness in your voice surprised even you.

Ramattra remained silent for several seconds, though he said something after that made you blink in confusion.

“You may work here.”

“Work where?”

“In Null Sector territory, with me.”

You stared at him. “You’re offering me a job?”

“Of course,” He replied. “You hold no hostility toward omnics in which is what I seek.”

“Of course not.”

“You also speak openly.”

“That’s just… cause I ramble nervously.”

“You climbed a rooftop knowing I was present.”

“…Okay, that one might’ve been a bad idea.”

For a moment, the air between you felt slightly lighter.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I know that you know who I am. Yet, you deemed me approachable… I admit that it is something I find quite strange yet fond of.”

You looked down at your hands again. “…Yeah.” Your voice softened. “I mean, omnics never made me feel like I was… alone I guess? It’s probably why I came over despite being so nervous.”

The wind shifted gently across the rooftop.

“In the same way,” Ramattra said slowly, “my people seek acceptance from those who deny it. We get comfortable with those who cherish our existence.”

Your chest tightened slightly. “…There are a lot of humans like me, y’know?” you admitted quietly. “We’re just afraid.”

“We may not be so different.”

For a moment, neither of you spoke. The sun dipped lower behind the skyline, painting the rooftops in deep amber light.

“You should stop shrinking yourself.”

You looked up at him.

“I can’t help it… but why do you say that?”

“Because the accusation against you was—and is—incorrect.” His gaze met yours directly. “You are not ugly. Those who use it as an excuse to criticize others are the ugly ones.” The certainty in his voice made the words feel strangely heavy.

Not comforting.

Just… true.

You looked away quickly. “…Thanks.”

Then he added something unexpected.

“You believe this is our first meeting.”

Your head tilted slightly.

“…Isn’t it?”

A quiet pause followed.

“I have observed you before.”

Your eyes widened in disbelief, “What?!”

“You have visited this rooftop repeatedly for the past twenty-three days.”

“You’ve been watching me?”

“Observing,” he corrected.

“When?!”

“Most evenings.”

“…Why?”

He paused briefly. “At first, I believed you were scouting.”

“Do I look like someone working for the military?”

“Your behavior did not match typical surveillance patterns.” He continued. “You spoke to yourself.”

Your face flushed instantly.

“Often.”

“Oh my god.”

“You also dropped your bag from the rooftop three separate times.”

You covered your face.

“You retrieved it while apologizing to the object.”

You groaned into your hands. “I hate everything.”

A brief pause followed.

“I found it… interesting.”

You peeked through your fingers. “…Interesting?”

“Human behavior is frequently contradictory,” he said. “Yet your actions remained consistent.”

“With what?”

“You returned.”

Your shoulders shifted awkwardly. “I didn’t think anyone noticed since I never saw anyone here.”

“I did.” The wind stirred his cloak. “However, I did not intend to speak with you initially.”

“Why?”

“You appeared… content, with solitude.”

You looked at the skyline again. “I… guess I was.”

Another pause followed.

“…I did not expect to find human behavior amusing.”

Your head snapped toward him. “Wait—what?”

“You are… expressive.”

You stared at him.

“You think I’m funny?”

“I believe you possess a highly observable emotional range.”

You laughed quietly. “That’s the nicest way anyone has ever called me weird.”

Something subtle shifted in the air between you then. The silence that followed wasn’t uncomfortable anymore. It felt… warm. The sun slipped lower, bathing the rooftop in amber light as the city slowly began to glow with evening lights. And for the first time in a long while, the rooftop didn’t feel like a place you came to escape the world. It felt like somewhere you belonged. The warm quiet lingered between you for a while after that.

The wind drifted across the rooftop again, softer now, carrying with it the faint sounds of the city beginning to stir for the night. Somewhere far below, traffic hummed like a distant river of metal and headlights, and the first scattered windows across the skyline flickered to life as the sun continued to sink.

Eventually, you spoke again.

“…You still watched me though.”

Your voice was quieter now, less tense than before, but the curiosity behind it remained. You glanced sideways at him, studying the still silhouette of his tall frame against the fading light.

“Correct.”

The answer came easily.

“Why?”

Ramattra turned his head slightly, his glowing optics shifting away from you to rest on the horizon instead. For a moment, it almost looked like he was considering the question. “…You returned despite believing yourself unwelcome.”

You frowned faintly.

“And?”

“That suggests resilience.” Your chest warmed a little at the word, though you weren’t entirely sure why. “And,” he continued after a brief pause, “you treated this place with respect.” Your lips pressed together thoughtfully as you followed his gaze out toward the city.

“Also…” he added. There was the faintest pause before he finished. “You apologized to a pigeon when it startled you.”

Your head snapped toward him, face burning instantly. “You saw that too?!”

“Indeed, I did.”

“I am never coming up here again.” You groaned, dragging both hands down over your face.

For a moment the only sound was the wind moving across the rooftop. Then you heard it—faint, subtle, but unmistakable. A quiet mechanical shift in his voice module. Something that almost sounded like amusement. You slowly lowered your hands. For the first time in years, the embarrassment didn’t feel sharp or painful. It wasn’t that familiar twisting shame that made you want to disappear.

Instead, it felt… lighter. Like being seen without being judged.

Ramattra looked down at you again, his gaze steady. “You were welcome the moment you arrived.”

Your chest tightened slightly at the simple statement. The skyline shimmered faintly as the last edge of the sun disappeared beyond the city’s distant towers, leaving behind a wash of dim violet and deepening blue. And somewhere along the way, the rooftop had stopped being the place you came to escape the world. It had quietly become somewhere you belonged.

After a moment, Ramattra spoke again.

“You— mentioned difficulty finding employment.”

“…Yeah. I did.” The word came out softer than before.

“Where do you reside?” He asked.

You hesitated, glancing toward the city as if you could somehow see your apartment from here. “…Not far. In the city.”

“Describe your living conditions.”

You sighed quietly.

“I rent a room in a building that probably should’ve been condemned ten years ago.” He didn’t interrupt. “No heat half the time,” you continued. “Plumbing barely works.”

You gave a small shrug. “Landlord doesn’t care.” Your eyes stayed fixed on the skyline. “I take whatever temp jobs I can get just to cover rent.”

There was a pause before you added quietly, “…Sometimes I don’t.”

The wind drifted softly across the rooftop again.

Then Ramattra spoke.

“You cannot remain in such conditions.”

You huffed a small breath of humorless laughter. “I mean… it’s something.”

“If you work for me,” he said calmly, “you can live within Null Sector territory.”

Your eyebrows shot upward.

“You’re offering housing too?”

“Yes.”

“You barely know me.”

“I know enough.”

You laughed nervously, rubbing the back of your neck again. “That’s a… big offer.”

“You require stability to work efficiently, no?”

Your lips twitched slightly. “Is that the only reason why you ask?”

“Not exactly.”

“What is it then?”

There was a brief pause before he answered. “You have proven… trustworthy to me.”

Something warm settled quietly in your chest.

“…I don’t have much stuff,” you admitted.

“Possessions are unnecessary.”

“I’d still want to grab a few things.”

“That is acceptable.”

“…Okay.” You nodded slowly. The word felt strange leaving your mouth. Like you had just agreed to something much bigger than you fully understood. Then another thought crossed your mind. “Should I meet you back here later?”

Ramattra turned slightly, his cloak shifting behind him as the wind caught the fabric. “That will not be necessary.”

“…It won’t?”

His gaze drifted toward the distant skyline again.

“I will find you.”

Your brows furrowed.

“You don’t even know where I live.”

The faint red glow of his optics shifted back toward you.

“I am capable.”

“Even if you could, every human around would see you.” You laughed softly under your breath.

He stepped closer to the edge of the rooftop, the city lights beginning to reflect faintly across the polished surfaces of his frame.

“Do you doubt my capabilities?”

“I guess I’ll find out.”

A faint chuckle vibrated through his voice module. “You should return before dark.”

“…Right.” You stood slowly, brushing dust and gravel from your clothes.

The rooftop felt different now. Less like an empty refuge you hid in, and more like the beginning of something unexpected. For a moment neither of you moved.

Then you said quietly, “…Thank you.”

Ramattra paused.

His head turned slightly back toward you. “Your gratitude is noted.” And then he added, his voice softer than before, “…It is not often given.”

Before you could respond, he moved toward the ladder. His descent was smooth and quiet, mechanical joints working with precise control as his tall form disappeared down the side of the building as silently as he had appeared.

The rooftop fell silent again. But this time the quiet didn’t feel lonely. The wind moved softly across the gravel. The city lights blinked awake one by one in the distance. And for the first time in a long while someone had been watching you.

And instead of finding something wrong…

He had decided you were worth keeping around.

[sinsofbeauty]

Drama

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem! Reader

Warnings: Mentions of Stalking

Requested?: Yes!

A/n: These Headcanons/Imagines are AU based, where Johnny is biologically part of the Slaughter family and went to Highschool! Written in a slight fanfic format! Enjoy, remember requests are open!!

• Johnny wasn’t someone you knew straight from childhood. You saw him around the school grounds but not much to which you or him had spoken to each other. You didn’t really know the boy until High School.

• He was in your English class at the desk right in front of you against the wall, always looking out the window instead of paying attention to the lessons. Feet on his desk with arms crossed, or leaning on his elbows with no care in the world. Though surprisingly, he always answered questions correctly when called upon and aced his tests like the answers were placed right in front of him.

• “Hey, ya’ have a pencil I can borrow?” Was the first interaction the two of you officially made. It was awkward, being that you were an introverted art kid and he was a popular greaser. His head tilted back, looking at you upside down as his dominant hand gestures like he’s writing.

• From that moment forward he would ask you for a pencil every day before the beginning of class. It made you wonder why he just didn’t have his own school supplies, and it would lowkey get on your nerves.

• “Johnny is it? Is there a reason you can’t get your own pencils?” You ask scrounging for another in your messy pouch.

• “Why would I do that when the cutie behind me has all I need?” He said with the tilt of his head as you handed him the borrowed pencil.

• Honestly, you never thought you would be involved with one of the hottest guys in school. Like… every girl had their eyes on him, and that meant every girl who even had the tiniest crush on Johnny… had eyes on you.

• In the classroom you would often get stares or watch people talk in hushed whispers when you entered. Even out of his presence you seemed to be a target of drama. Rumors weren’t far from the catch, yet it would be a while before you actually heard one for yourself.

• Lunch was another story. Usually it was just you sitting with your small group of friends, while Johnny was rowdy with his buddies across the cafeteria. It’s not like the food was all that good, but you would like to enjoy your food in peace sometimes without having to escape to the art room.

• Though after some time of talking, Johnny would make his way over to your table to flirt with you… and the rest of your friends that sat with you. They suspected that he was trying to get close to you probably because they have a crush on one of them, which made you roll your eyes. You didn’t really care, well… not at that moment at least.

• Johnny Slaughter was the name you eventually found out from one of your close friends. Charming, Flirtatious, and Mysterious. When he wasn’t hyping up his group of friends with his character, he would often find himself in the weight room… or watching you in the art room.

• After school activities are where your free time is spent if not with family or doing homework. A friendly relationship with your teacher allowed you to gain access to the room alone after school if you asked her for permission. Your creativity was spent writing, reading, drawing, or simply catching up on assignments. However you didn’t realize you had eyes on you, watching after school hours. Walking home was the same. You didn’t have a car and your home wasn’t too far, so it was often spent quiet, with the horrid Texas heat on some days.

• One day, Johnny had actually started to take you home. Hopping in his truck on a humid afternoon was like water to a dehydrated throat. You were grateful, yet suspicious. He was acting way too nice lately, strangely specific tasks like taking you home or carrying your books to English class when it looked too heavy.

• Surely, it wasn’t because of the recent morning announcements about Prom coming up… right?

[sinsofbeauty]

Heyyyyyyyy…

So it has been quite a while my friends. Been battling some mental health issues and family troubles for quite a little while. Came back to realize that I haven’t written anything in good damn near a year, which is absolutely insane. The motivation was running low, and even worse all of the requests I have gotten were lost. So sad about that… but I am gonna make some progress as I love writing, but I need some help!

I’m gonna leave up a poll for a week, see where my follower base is as of right now and what y’all would like me to write. Please send me some requests in the meantime!! Here or anonymously in my inbox. For more detailed inquiries feel free to reach out to the DM’s for consults! For any possible request questions you may have, please revert to this page >> HERE <<

I appreciate those who have stuck around during my period of silence! Hope to speak with you guys soon!!

Which fandom are you from/would like me to write more of?

COD MW2 (Call of Duty: Modern Warfare 2)

TCM (The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game)

Apex Legends

Other (Please Comment)

Voting ended onMay 9, 2025

[sinsofbeauty]

Hello my lovelies! This is just a message to all my discord friends and users that I’ve spoken with. If you at all had me added on discord my account has been hacked into! At the mere moment I cannot access it, therefore messages will be delayed. Trying to fix the issue with discord support but as of right now I hope to add most if not all of you back!

If you for any reason had me added on discord, please reach out to me via DMs and I will get back to you with my new account info asap! I made a new one just in case I cannot recover this one! Thank you!!

[sinsofbeauty]

Lovie, could we possibly get a bit of fluff in a Johnny x chubby!reader? Like she can’t find anything to wear bc she doesn’t feel like anything she puts on is flattering and she looks bad in it and is feeling really upset?Asking for a friend ofc 😅

Dinner

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Chubby Fem! Reader

Warnings: Fluff, Established relationship, Pet names (Bunny, Baby, Honey), Softer Johnny

Requested?: Yeaahhhh

Overview: You can’t seem to find a single thing to wear, and it’s bringing your mood down lower and lower. Though when your boyfriend comes in the room, he tries to comfort you the best he can.

A/n: Literally love this idea!! I gotchu bb ;3

“Y/nnnn,” 

Heavy footsteps had entered the quiet room, belt buckling under it designated flaps as brown eyes gazed upon your backside. Through the dusty window, the morning sun shone, casting a drab ray of light on your figure. Johnny, who had just stepped in finishing up with his belt buckle, peering you down as you observed yourself in the mirror. You appear upset, frowning when you see yourself and attempting to modify the dress you wore to fit your physique. After glancing at the stacked garments on the bed in the corner, Johnny's gaze shifted to the open closet, which appeared to be nearly empty. 

“We goin’ thru clothes today bunny?” When he noticed your face, he raised his eyebrows and questioned. 

Glancing across at the bed, you suddenly became dissatisfied. In a short period of time, so many different outfits were worn, yet none of them seemed to attract your interest. “I wish,” You stare back in the mirror and say, huffing a little. “I’m just… trying to figure out what I want to wear.”

“What’s wrong with that dress?” Johnny asked, gesturing to the one you were wearing. 

What was the issue with it? The colors? The patterns? Perhaps the horrible way it molded itself around your body? Nothing you've worn in the past twenty minutes has made you feel good about yourself; everything just looked awful. From pretty blouses paired with skirts to dresses that are long and short? Simply put, you weren't feeling it today. You felt so insecure about it that it upset you. Even though it wasn't his fault, the mere question from Johnny disturbed you. You felt yourself involuntarily tugging at your stomach in an attempt to cover it up.

“Just look at it…”

Johnny had indeed taken one good look at you. His attention swept over your entire body, taking in every exquisite curve that your clothing effortlessly embraced. The thin material snatched your breasts and the remainder of your waist as it flowed down around your hips. He didn't find anything wrong with the apparel or the way you looked wearing it. The man gave you a small shake of his head before raising his gaze once more to meet yours. 

“You don’ like it?” He asked, taking a couple steps towards you. His head loomed side to side as your facial expression grew more and more confused. “I think it’s beautiful on ya’ baby.” 

Johnny had taken your hand and lifted your arm above your head, spinning you around to face him. His eyes observed you closely in it’s half lidded state before turning you back around. Facing the mirror you were looking at before all you could make was a disgusted face. Though that soon faded when the man pressed his body up against you from behind. Your eyes became a little wider as he began fiddling with the straps and smoothing out the creases that were sticking out of your dress. 

“This ones a lil’ tight,” Johnny murmured softly, his voice like a low rumble bouncing off walls. 

“Is it?” You say, your chest suddenly shifting with disappointment. “I… don’t like the way I look in it.”

“Why not?” His voice hinted with curiosity.

“It’s just… I’ve tried so many things. They don’t look appealing, most… not as flattering as I’d hoped.” 

Johnny’s movements stopped, which made you look up at the mirror. “I think it’s more than flattering.” A smile appears on his face when his large hands take your hips. “Y’know what I think?” 

“Hm?”

“I think I could take ya’ out in this one. How ‘bout dinner?”

“Johnny, this dress isn’t good enough for dinner.” 

His smile widened as all he could do was chuckle. “Really sugar? Cause I could jus’ eat chu’ up~.” When Johnny began to attack you with kisses, you squealed and laughed as he buried his face in your neck. Your body was enveloped by his arms, leaving you exposed to his comforting warmth. His teeth scraped and nibbled at your throat as you reached for his hair and yanked him away. “Ah- careful! You’ll start pullin’ on other strings-“

“Johnny Slaughter-“

“Y/n L/n,” His eyes squinted at you, making your cheeks fluster. “I think that dress is lovely on ya’. Anythin’ ya’ wear, you’re a beautiful woman.” His head leaned down and kissed your temple. “My beautiful woman.”

He just knew how to make your heart flutter. Given that Johnny wasn't always good at consoling people, you treasured these moments. Something like this, where he truly sought to convey his feelings, even though he wasn't always the one to do so? It sets butterflies in your stomach. You couldn't help but smile when you saw Johnny as considerate and positive as opposed to cold and uncaring.

“There’s the smile I like to see,” He said with a chuckle, planting a firm kiss on your cheek. “Can I get a kiss?”

“Hmm, no.” 

“Give me a damn kiss woman.”

You giggle moving your head, your lips colliding with your lovers as you both hum in sync. All he could do was nuzzle his head with yours when he pulled back. “You’re awfully… cuddly today.” 

Withdrawing from you, he grabs your hand and spins you around to face him. “Don’ like it?”

“No- No I like it!” You say placing your hands on his chest and patting him softly. “It’s just a little… different?”

“Is it? Ya’ like it when I’m more stern and rough wit’ ya’?”

“It’s what I’m used to honey,” Johnny gave you a mischievous look and a huff when you lightly tapped his face with your palm. After that you made your way over to bed, piled with clothes that you’d taken from your closet. 

“I’m serious though,” He says, the heavy footsteps of his boots trailing from behind you. The man’s hand had taken yours, lowering it as it held one of the dresses you put on before. You look up at him, confused with your eyebrows well raised. He takes the dress from your hand and looks at it, before placing it back down on the bed. “I wanna take ya’ out.”

“If you think taking me out will make me feel better-”

“How ‘bout our spot?” He said, making you pause your words. “Anythin’ ya’ want. I’ll even throw in some drinks if that’s whatcha like.”

You gave Johnny a major side eye before sighing, closing your eyes and running your hand through your hair. “So persuasive,” You state, making him chuckle. “Fine, but we’re coming straight home afterwards.”

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower Pt. 3

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, Suggestive Nsfw content, Cigarette mention/usage, SMUT!!, Fingering, P in V, Unprotected (Stay safe), slight choking, and more but I don’t wanna spoil the fun ;3

Requested?: Yeeee!!!

Overview: If the events that happened the night before weren't enough, then tonight sure as hell would be. After an awkward encounter, you find yourself alone with the man who has such a hold on you. Talking and playing around won’t compare to what you got yourself into tonight.

A/n: This is the last part of this little series!! If you would like to see more Johnny feel free to send me an ask/request! I got a couple in my inbox so I’ll be working on those! Johnny’s a little more soft but can be a bit aggressive in this one so if ya aint feeling it DNI!!

This chapter contains written NSFW content. Minors are advised to not interact!! Enjoy!

Red Stained Sunflower Pt.1 - Red Stained Sunflower Pt.2

You weren't prepared for really visiting the Slaughter home the next day. Your heart pumped strangely after Johnny left last night with his confident demeanor and witty remarks. You couldn't sleep all night from it. The man’s scent had still lingered in your room, especially on your bed where he decided to make himself comfortable. You hated him for that. You loved the thought of him but hated that he was constantly on your mind.

Now you were on your way to meet the man, telling your father that you would be at Maria’s for a bit. Lying, so that you could see the trouble that dipped so far into your heart. Walking along the dirt road in your favorite sundress and a small bag, you decided to go through the front instead of the back way close to the gardens like last time. It probably would be easier since it was getting late, the sun coming close to the horizon. 

You hurried your steps as your feet silently patted on the porch, before raising your hand to knock on the door. Your hand was mere centimeters away but suddenly stopped when you heard commotion coming from the other side. And it didn’t sound good either…

“Ya’ keep leavin’ without a trace and don’t tell nobody! The hell ya’ goin’ off to?!”

You carefully pushed your ear to the door to hear if anyone was nearby. If you can recall his name, it sounded like Drayton. The older gentleman who occasionally went by the name Cook among some members of the family. Given that he didn't seem to like your presence, you didn't actually talk to him all that much. When you laugh with Bubba and Nubbins, you may receive sidelong looks or little scoffs from the kitchen. He appeared agitated, and was questioning the person who had turned his mood so sour.

“That’s none of yer damn business, old man.” 

Oh… that’s who was getting interrogated. Johnny. What they were saying appeared to grab your attention, even though it shouldn't have startled you as much as it did. 

“It’s that girl again ain’t it? Ya’ keep goin’ out and followin’ ‘er like a gosh darn puppy!” Drayton had persisted in reprimanding Johnny, his aging voice hoarse with annoyance. “What’s so special ‘bout ‘er hm? She can’t do nothin’ for ya’-“

“Watch yer tone! Before ya’ start ta’ have a real problem on yer hands.”

Drayton and Johnny both appeared to be furious, but Johnny's stance was clearly more aggressive. Given that the older man made a comment regarding other girls, you weren't sure if they were talking about you or not. Your heart briefly ached as a result. You felt a tiny bit envious when you imagined Johnny with someone else. As you refocused on the exchanged words, you briefly dared to blink. 

“Calm ya’self Johnny!” Your ears twitch to the sound of Sissy’s voice. 

“Get off a me!” He growls, sudden footsteps approaching closer the door. “Yer quick ta’ start pointin’ fingers. Do I need ta’ remind ya’ how long ya’ left us fa’?”

“Don’t chu start yappin’ at me! Ya’ know what I needed ta’ do-“

“And I know what I’m doin’, so quit yer barkin!” 

You became aware that you were still listening in as footsteps began to move dangerously towards the door. You immediately moved away from the porch, to the side of the house where the bushes encumbered beneath the window. Bubba and Nubbins emerge from the door moments later once it had opened. You see from the bushes as the two enter the white pickup truck's back bay, with Sissy trailing behind them and moving toward the passenger-side door. Johnny is furiously flailing his arms behind Drayton as the older man stumbles out of the house.

When Johnny came closer, Drayton spun around and pointed a finger in his face as the younger man's brows furrowed. “She’s makin’ ya’ weak boy. Weak! And if I have ta’ tell ya’ ta’ leave ‘er alone again-!”

“What are ya’ so afraid of ol’ man?” The man’s eyelids lower in suspicion. “I don’t have ta’ explain anythin’ ta’ anybody, and I ain’t gonna let ya’ boss me ‘round like a kid.”

“So naive, wait until ya’ mother hears about this,” Cook chuckles, hopping into the truck. “Ya’ care ‘bout ‘er more than ya’ care ‘bout yer own family. I’ve said it once and I’ll say it again, once she realizes what you are, you’ll treat ‘em like the rest once she tries ta’ leave.” 

As you saw Drayton shut the door to the truck, his remarks caused your stomach to churn, giving you anxiety-filled butterflies. The vehicle had been started, and the engine was roaring as it backed into the driveway. Once it was turned around it drove off, leaving Johnny there speechless and heated as ever. You’ve never seen him so upset, so… filled with anger. He tightened his jaw and balled his fists into the palms of his hands, a vein protruding from the side of his temple. He looked like he could kill someone, right then and there. After a period of silence, he took a long breath in and let it out harshly.

“Yer terrible at hidin’.” 

As Johnny's statement rang across the air, your heart leaped and your eyes widened. Before turning around, he had let out an abrasive huff while his tongue prodded at the insides of his cheeks. “Ya’ can stop hidin’ darlin.” He only moves a few steps before his eyes and boots come to a complete stop on the ground. He was perceptive, and that was well noted. He closed his eyes and ran a hand through his dark hair as his demeanor abruptly changed. “Come oooon, I know yer out here.”

Although you were uneasy, there was no use continuing to hide now that he had exposed you. A few seconds later, you emerged from the bushes, and Johnny's eyes shot open to meet yours. His chocolate brown eyes locked with yours at that very instant, and you could feel the rage and shame simmering behind them. With the broad grin that covered his face, he did a great job of hiding it. 

“How did you know I was here?” You asked, making him shrug his shoulders. “Could see yer footprints. They moved that way unlike the others,” His fingers pointed down to the ground, making you smirk and shake your head slightly. “Didn’t think ya’d be ‘ere so soon. Hell, thought ya’d go on and ditch me again~.” 

“Well… I uh, was thinking about it. After hearing all that.”

The smile on Johnny’s face faded as quick as it came, tilting his head slightly with the squint of his eyes. “How much did ya’ ‘ear?” He asked, stuffing his hands in his back pockets.

You fiddled with the fabric of your sundress, debating on whether or not to tell him the truth. You didn’t mean to eavesdrop, it just happened to be a bad time and you didn’t want to get caught knowing they were talking about you. It was reasonable, but then again… maybe it wasn’t such a good idea to lie right in Johnny’s face.

“Enough…” You said, making the man turn his head away. “I know Drayton didn’t like me that much but not as… much as I thought.”

Johnny shook his head, a chuckle coming from his mouth. “Heh, yeah. I got some explainin’ ta’ do don’t I?” The man had lifted his arm, hand gesturing to you as he began to approach. “Walk wit’ me?”

He smiles once again at your head nod when he approaches. He took hold of your shoulders and pulled you along with him as the two of you moved to the side of the house. “So… about that explaining?”

“Yeah yeah, I’m gettin’ to it.” Johnny rolled his eyes playfully, removing his arm from you to run his fingers through his hair again. “So impatient. Next thing I know yer gonna be bossin’ me ‘round!”

“Thought you didn’t like being told what to do.” You say, his eyes narrowing to stare at you in a playful side eye. 

“I don’t.” His voice cracks with excitement, making you giggle in response. 

Both of you had stopped, and Johnny had positioned himself on a car's damaged hood. He had rested against it, his arms crossed, and his head tilted to the side. The male had observed as your eyes silently absorbed the magnificence of the meadows. You were patiently waiting for him to resume speaking, but the breathtaking scenery fully captured your attention. The scene of the sunflowers gently colored by the sun's rays as they sway side to side in the wind. The man behind you, who had hummed at the sight, was the only one who managed to divert your attention away from the view.

Your head turns, staring Johnny with his half lidded eyes. “I should’ve brought my camera.” 

“Why didn’t you?”

“Forgot. I was so busy getting ready that I left it on my dresser.” You had fumbled through your bag in your hip, looking into it for something. 

“Got all dolled up just fa’ me? Ya’ shouldn’t have~.” Johnny was… staring a lot, and it was awfully distracting. You don’t even remember what it was that you were looking for. 

“Oh shut up.” You say, putting your bag away to your hip. “Come up with that explanation yet?”

Johnny sighed and rubbed the side of his stubbled cheek as another smile appeared on his face. “What do ya’ wanna know?”

There were many things you wished to know. Why Drayton didn't like you, whether his family disapproved of you, whether he is seeing someone else, and whatever part of him the older man was referring to. There was just a lot on the table, and you didn't have much time to gather everything from him given how soon the sun would set. “Has Drayton always had something against me?”

“Doesn’t like any girl I bring home,” Johnny explained. “Says it’s a distraction. Don’t know what the problem is when I can handle myself.” 

“Maybe he’s just worried about you?”

“Should worry ‘bout his damn self.” Johnny rolled his eyes at that.

“Okay,” You walk over to him and hop onto the hood of the car to take a seat. “Does the rest of your family… not like me?”

Johnny didn’t say anything for a moment, averting his eyes away from you as he thought about it. The man looked up at the sky, nodding his head slightly. “I… don’t really know.” He finally responded. “Sissy has her suspicions. Nubbins doesn’t really care, I know big boy likes ya’ a lot.” 

“Who Bubba?” 

“Yeaaah,” His grin starts to appear again. “He’s like a kid, likes it when ya’ spend time with ‘im. Yer much nicer than the rest of us.” 

Well that was good to know at least. You smile at that, nodding your head to the thought. “I’m glad that he likes it when I’m around. He’s like a puppy, so energetic when he’s happy. Speaking of-“

“Oh god,” Johnny sighs out loudly. “Don’t— Don’t listen to anythin’ he said beginnin’ with that!” 

“So you follow me?”

“Jesus Christ,” Johnny groans out loud, shaking his head. “I don’t follow ya’!”

“What about the skatin’ rink?” 

“That was one time!” Johnny lifted his arms up as he exaggerated his lies. “That’s cause I wanted ta’ know what ya’s been doin’.”

“I mean you did break into my house,” You teased, making him huff in irritation. “Do you usually just go into places whenever you feel like it?”

The man cracked a bit, chuckling before shaking his head at you. “Breakin’ inta’ houses ain’t my usual thing. I like bein’ more… direct. If that’s whatcha call it.” Johnny shook his shoulders at the thoughts, giving the question more attention than he probably intended. “Maybe… I’ve seen ya’ a couple times in town.” 

“Sneaky thing aren’t you~.”

“Indeed I am~,” He realized right away that you were making fun of him. After pushing himself off the hood, the man reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of crumpled smokes. 

“You’re not gonna smoke are you?” You ask with your eyebrows raised. “Those are bad y’know.”

“So nosey,” Johnny pulls out a cigarette and stuffs it into the side of his mouth. “Yer stressin’ me out with all these questions.”

“I can ask more.”

“Shut up.”

His grin seemed to morph into a naughty one when you were about to speak back to him. The chuckle that rumbled in his throat caused him to avert his eyes. He was aware of what you were about to say, and unlike yesterday, you were all by yourself with him. He smirked triumphantly and drew the lighter from his other pocket as you forced your mouth shut. However, you got an idea and got up off the car hood. You approach Johnny and snatch the cigarette out of his mouth. His expression was priceless and made you laugh out loud. 

“Uhm…hey?” He says reaching for the cigarette before you pull it back. He licks his lips with a sly grin, nodding his head. “Ohhh, okay. So that’s what we’re doin’ hm?”

“Maybe,” You reply. “Yer funny, now give it back before I take it.”

You stood there idly, not listening to a single word Johnny said. Johnny had taken that moment of silence to look over you, before his hand rushed to grab yours. It caught you off guard, your wrist with the cigarette being taken as he pulled you towards him. The front of your body collides with his, a small grunt coming from you. Looking up at the man your eyes widen. Cheeks flushed, you feel his other hand snake around your lower back to keep you there. Oh dear… what did you just get yourself into? “Tsk tsk. Yer playin’ a dangerous game here sweetheart.” Every word in Johnny's voice is dripping with seduction, like a warning sign. “If that’s whatcha wanna do, I’m all up fa’ the challenge~.” Johnny takes the cigarette from your hand and sticks it back in his mouth. What an absolute tease. The way your body effortlessly melted into him gave the man the confidence that he could get away with it. “What~? Wish I did somethin’ else wit’ ma’ mouth?” 

“If you wanted to, I’m sure you would have.” You say narrowing your eyes. 

“Oh really?” Johnny says, his hand behind your back moving to place itself on your abdomen. He moved you backwards, your hands coming in contact with the hood of the vehicle you sat on earlier. “What makes ya’ think I won’t?”

“I don’t know, maybe you do it to all your other little girlfriends.”

Your statement made Johnny laugh, having to take the smoke out of his mouth before it fell out. “Awww ya’ heard that too? Jealous~?” He made your lips purse, your eyes moving away to the side of you. “I’ll amuse ya’, so how ‘bout this. Yer the only one I’ve been talkin’ to fa’ a while.”

You look back up at Johnny, who had stuffed the cigarette back in its little box. “So amused,” You roll your eyes, trying to remove yourself away from Johnny but all he did was stand in your way. He was so close to you, that he practically had you pinned against the car and him. 

“Lookin’ a lil’ sour there honey.” He teased, the cigarette box being placed back in his pocket. “Still jealous~?”

“N-No…” You stammered, swallowing thickly when you tried to look away.

Johnny chuckles as he detects your lies. He was making you so anxious and driving you mad by imagining the other women he's seen. He was undeniably so close to your body that you would bump into him if you even attempted to move. His hands, which were still protected by his grime-stained gloves, advanced to your waist. When his face got close to yours, it made you hold your breath and your heart race.

“Can’t fool me darlin’, yer a terrible liar too.” His nose brushes against yours before he pulls his head back again. “I promise~, yer the only one I got eyes on.” Before you feel them move to your hips, the hold on your waist becomes tighter. You were raised back onto the car's hood a short while later. Johnny reached out and traced his fingertips along your exposed thighs without pausing. “Yer the only one I want.”

Once more, his face approaches yours, but this time he maintains his distance. The once-orange sky was beginning to turn dark, misty blue as the sun dropped below the horizon in the distance. The view in front of you now... drew you in more than ever, and you were unable to take your eyes off of him. Your head subconsciously turned in his direction as quiet breaths filled the chilly air in the silence. 

“I want you too…” You say quietly, making the man in front of you grin.

“Hm?” He hums, moving himself in between your legs. “Ya’ want me?”

The man takes one moment to remove his gloves while you nod your head. He places them beside you, grabs your legs, hooks them around his waist, then grabs your hips. 

“All of me?” 

Your hands that had been resting on the hood, came and cupped the sides of his cheeks. “Yes,” You reply. “I want all of you, Johnny.” 

“Ya’ sure?” The male wasn’t hesitant, he just knew what both of you were going to get into. You knew this yourself, and you nodded once more. “Good, cause I’mma keep ya’ aaaaall to myself~.” 

The man's lips had touched yours at that point. Your entire body experienced waves of arousal as well as butterflies throughout your stomach. His touch was felt, and the satisfaction from his lips lingered on your own. It appeared as though he was directing you through every step due to the way they moved so perfectly alongside yours. He tasted metallic and minty, with a hint of tobacco. 

He pulled back from the kiss as his bare hands took hold of the hem of your sundress and raised it just a bit. As he moved from your earlobe to the side of your neck, his lips made contact with your jaw. You start to gasp softly as Johnny grazes your neck with his teeth and nibbles on your tender flesh. He leaned down to your collarbone and softly sucked on the skin there, creating a small hickey in the process. A reminder of what was his.

“Drivin’ me crazy sweet pea,” He mumbled in the crook of your neck, his calloused hands massaging the top of your thighs. The more he dragged on his throbbing need for you, the more vigorously he kneaded them. “Might not be able ta’ hol’ back much longer.”

Your legs are still around Johnny's waist as he pulls away from you, but you move your eyes. They proceeded on to the growth that pressed up against his jeans and the obvious indent of his own erection in a sizable tent. You shiver at the sight.

“Gettin’ cold?” He asks, the man lifting you from the car hood.

“A little,” You half admit, your hands hanging onto his shoulders. “Didn’t think you’d care much.”

Johnny chuckles as he lowers you and unlocks the car door. The man poked his head inside and looked around as it rustled. The back window and the opposite side of the car were covered in sunflowers, and the only damage it appeared to have was a couple rips in the back seats. He moves and motions for you to enter with his hand. A hefty slap on the ass greets you as you crawl inside after taking the bag off your shoulder and throwing it within. You yelp as you turn to face Johnny, who dove with a grin on his face. 

Before climbing on top of you, he crept into the car and shut the door behind him. The man lowered his head back to your face as your back pressed up against the seat cushions and your head leaned forward. “I’ll warm ya’ up real good baby girl,” He adds as he presses his hands firmly on your lovely outfit. He raises it, revealing your (color) underwear, and wraps his fingers around them. 

Once he begins pushing the thin cloth up to your thighs, his lips come into touch with yours. As it slides down your ankles, he grabs them, taking them off your legs. He hums and pulls away from the kiss as you move your dress subtly with your hands to cover any views he might have.

“Hidin’ from me?” Your head slams against the seat as his enormous hand grabs both of your wrists and moves you lower with his other hand. He raises the clothing up to reveal you while pinning your arms above your head. As a result of Johnny's position, your legs were unable to even close completely, so he only huffed amusedly as you attempted. “Be a good girl and I might be gentle.” 

“You better be gentle,” You blurt out loud, earning a hefty laugh from Johnny.

“Riiiight, forget yer still a virgin~.” He sees you pucker your lips, Johnny taking the opportunity to peck them, making you groan. “Take this off will ya’? I wanna see everythin’.”

As you sit up to remove your sundress, Johnny draws back as you blink at him before nodding. You slipped your flats to the ground, nervously staring at Johnny as your sundress joined the pair of shoes. He had taken off his torn-up, black muscle shirt as you were doing this. The muscles you previously noticed were considerably more impressive up close. The scars, the little chest hair, and the flexed appearance of his arms. God, just looking at him made your pussy throb.

With such precision, he swiftly tossed his belt on the ground. Johnny’s boots were kicked off soon after, his jeans going down his legs and off his ankles. “God… jus’ look at ya’…” The man was in awe, his cock so strained that the boxers it held were pleading for release. He spread your legs open, looking down at you as he took in every inch of your body with his eyes. 

Johnny gives you another kiss, this time with his lips flowing against yours and his hands encircling you. He releases the clip from your bra, allowing it to fall as you adjust it to the side. The man was gentle, even attentive. His fingers stroked over you as if you were a work of art. A canvas that he was so tempted to ruin yet was too delicate to damage.

“Mmhn… I want you… Johnny…” Your words were said between kisses, the ones that got more rough with every passing moment.

Johnny pulls back, his pants evident while his lust for you grew immensely. “Yeah?” His voice is low, deep with pure emotion. 

You can feel his fingers rubbing against the slit in your pussy at that very instant. They have an unfamiliar, somewhat unusual feel about it that makes you flinch with curiosity. Before shutting, your eyes lock onto his, and as he rubs his thumb on your clit, you let out a gasp. Oh he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t his first rodeo. 

His eyes dart between you and your aching cunt as the pad of his thumb experimentally strokes your clit. You covered your face in embarrassment at the quiet grunts and tiny moans you let out. But Johnny appeared to enjoy it. How your confidence and shyness seem to win his favor equally. The unintentional bucking of your hips to increase your pleasure. 

“So wet fa’ me darlin’~,” Johnny purrs, his hand adjusting itself. “I could jus’…”

“Ahh~!”

With his words, Johnny’s finger enters your pussy. Your back begins to sag, and you whimper. The man does this while touching your breasts with his free hand and kissing them. You felt dizzy with excitement as he pinched your nipples and took them between his teeth. Your body burned at his touch and you wanted more. 

Your body tensed and jerked in response to the excitement that shot through your abdomen, his finger began curling in the most sensitive parts. Johnny was relentless, making sure that none of his actions left you even the tiniest bit untouched. That was until he slipped in another into your tight hole. This time it felt uncomfortable, and you expressed that feeling too.

“E-Eh… it hurts…” You whine softly, your hands gripping on Johnny’s biceps.

“I know baby,” He says, sending a kiss to your jaw. “Need ta’ stretch ya’ out fa’ me.”

You were speechless when you considered that Johnny was bigger than his fingers. Your hand, let alone your fingers, were much smaller than his. The discomfort you are experiencing right now undoubtedly pales in comparison to what you saw—er, see—in his boxers. He appeared to be on the larger side. Jesus…

Your face twitches as you notice him starting to up his pace. As his motions intensify, the buildup in your abdomen begins to expand and keeps growing. He was skilled with his hands, and within minutes you were on the verge of bursting. As your pussy throbs on his digits, the space between your walls gets smaller as he stares at you with half-lidded eyes. He hums as a result of your hold on his biceps, which also serves as a visual cue that you are close.

“J-John-ny… ah~ s-slow down…” You whine out, your words not phasing him in the slightest. The discomfort had faded to pleasure, your head hitting the window as your legs started to shake.

Curling his fingers he presses against your g-spot, making you squeal. He was merciless, fucking you with his fingers alone made you dizzy. “Thought about this all fucking day,” He growls, his voice cracking with lust. “Always on ma’ damn mind… fuck~, wanna make ya’ cum darlin’.”

“I… wanna cum.” 

Johnny looks at you with a grin, his head tilting. “Ya’ wanna cum fa’ me baby?”

He nods slightly in response to your head nod. The man had corrected himself, lowering his body and bringing his face to your pussy. You tighten up as a new feeling begins abruptly, your eyes widening. Johnny places his tongue on the swollen bud of your genitalia, the muscle twitching as he started lapping at it. While his fingers occupy the space within, he suctions and pleases you with his lips. The sensation of lowering your hands and grabbing Johnny's hair in your fingers was irresistible. 

“Mmhn~! Johnny… fuck! J-Johnny ple-ase!” 

Johnny had been humming along to your moans as they reverberated around the vehicle. Your stomach's coil finally burst, your eyes clamped shut, and your back arched in ecstasy. As he holds you down, Johnny pulls his fingers out of your cunt and grabs your hips with both of his hands. Your climax is coursing through your body as he continues to devour your pussy. His hair was being held in place by your hands so tightly that you worried you may rip it out. Your thighs were gripping the sides of his head as if you were going to break his skull.

“N-No! Waitwaitwait– Johnny!!”

As his mouth violently began sucking on your clit, you begged him to stop. The man, however, remained still, and you then experienced a new feeling. Your cunt gushes, Johnny groaning before quickly removing his face away from your sensitive core. Your grip on his dark hair, which had been locked in your fingers, loosened as you panted. His hands holding onto your hips relaxed while he chuckled. The man licked his lips and then ran his tongue against his teeth as he raised himself to his knees, which kept him on the seat's cushions. You stare at him in the hot atmosphere of a cool night. His chin down to his chest was slickly covered in your juices, he wore it like a medal as it glistened on his skin. A giggle escaped his thin lips as he raised his hand to wipe his face. “Did I just–”

“Squirt all over me? Yes, yes you did~.”

You blushed madly, setting a hand over your mouth and looking away from him. “I… didn’t know I could do that.”

Johnny grinned, “These hands work wonders darlin’.” He ran his hand over your pussy again before patting it, making you jolt at his soft motions.

“Eh– Ah! H-Hey! I’m still sensitive...” You whined.

“Oh I know,” Johnny said, pulling the hem of his boxers down. His cock emerged from that piece of clothing after it had fallen. Although the image had your mouth watering, you were uneasy about having that inside of you. “Bein’ sensitive is the bes’ part. Yer gonna be screamin’ ma’ name as I fuck ya’ senseless~.” You gasp when Johnny moves in between your legs, pulling them apart as he grips his twitching cock. He pumps it slowly, taking a moment to coat your juices on his hard length. Moments later, he lines himself up with your hole, running the loose strands of his now messy hair back.

“You don’t need me to do anything? I mean– I can… you know…” You tried to find the right words, but feeling the head of his cock press against you distracted your thoughts. “Nah, we’ll get ta’ that some otha’ time.” He says, leaning down to you. “I jus’ wanna be inside ya’~.”

His lips make contact with yours, and the sudden penetration makes you tense up immediately. You try to release, but the more he pushes the more pain surged through your lower body. When he pulls back from you, he stares into your eyes, a sudden wickedness appearing in his own. All of a sudden he bucks his hips forward, his mouth opening agape when his full length is inside of you. You whimper out in pain and pleasure. You felt so full that your walls could only squeeze around him, and so sensitive that a simple adjustment made you groan with pleasure. “A… warning would’ve been nice.” You glare at him, the man taking your body and pulling you back down to lay on the cushions. “Oops~.” He purrs, a small moan coming from his throat. Johnny takes your legs and wraps them around his waist again. “Want me ta’ go slow?”

“So considerate,” You say, watching as the man comes down to you. 

“I wouldn’t be so sure.” 

The man pulls his hips back before slamming back into you, your eyes widening at the feeling. A shocked gasp wakens the night, and Johnny continues to fuck you like the man he is. Hard, deep, thrusts that send your toes curling, and your hands to dig into his back that you held onto for dear life. The jolts of pure pleasure send you into a state of ecstasy, your mouth sending out nothing but pure, uncontrollable moans. 

“God baby— fuck~! Yer clampin’ on me— shit— uh~.” Johnny moans at you, his eyes watching every single detail of how your body craves him. “All mine… all fuckin’ mine— god!”

His head dips to your neck, placing firm kisses as his hand grip the sides of your ass. He lifts you up slightly, his cock beginning to drill into your tight pussy. 

“AHH~!! Ohmygodohmygod~!!” Your voice sounded so beautiful, getting louder every moment he bucked his hips into you. 

Johnny mutters under his breath, stopping and pulling his cock out from you. “Turn around baby,” He motions, watching as you quickly get on your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass, making him tap one of the cheeks teasingly. “Fuckin’ tease.” 

“Your the one who stopped when it was getting good.” You roll your eyes.

He scoffed, slapping your ass in which made you jump. “Ass up ya’ little shit.”

You smile, arching your back as he positions himself against you once more. While Johnny stuffs his cock back inside of you, you chuckle as you feel both of his hands on your ass. Oh, if he wasn't ramming into you before, he sure was doing it now. This position made things a lot easier for him to access. In the deepest places, most sensitive areas, as soon as he hit that sweet spot that’s all he ever did. 

“Tryna get away~?” He grips your hips as you try to pull yourself away, pulling you back on his cock. You squeal, your head shoving itself down in the cushion of the seat while your legs shake tremendously. “Ahhh~ fuck yer tightenin’.”

“Feels s’ good— ah— fuckfuck mmhn~!” 

“Say it again,” Johnny bends down slightly to take your neck into his hand. “Fuckin’ say it again!”

Tears brim in your eyes as his thrusts make your stomach clench, your eyes practically rolling back into your skull. “It feels good!! AHH~!! You feel so good Johnny!!”

“That’s right love, take it~ Take it~!”

Your orgasm hits you like a freight train as your body trembles. As Johnny continues to abuse your g-spot, you scream, your delightful climax intensifying to the point where tears are streaming down your face. As the man squeezed your neck, the shortage of oxygen caused you to start seeing stars as you gushed once more on him. Your voice breaks when he lets go of you, and your head is fuzzy as he fucks you for the remainder of your climax. 

His low murmurs and grunts escalate to become louder growls and moans. He gave you a hard slap on the ass and grasped it tightly. Both cheeks took turns getting reddened handprints. The man's thrusts were more eager, and he was grinning broadly. 

“I fuckin’ needed this— uh~ fuck I needed you~ Doin— mhm~ this ta’ me~…” Johnny threw his head back, taking in his own pleasure. The man was close to cumming, his thrusts starting to become sloppier than they were before. “I’m so close… Y/n, say my name.”

“Johnny…“ Your brain was mush, barely being able to comprehend what you had heard.

He slaps your ass, hard, making you yelp in surprise. “Louder~.”

“Johnny!” You moan louder.

Another firm slap, making you whimper out. “Scream my fuckin’ name~!” He positions himself, his cock pulling out to the tip before thrusting back in. 

“AH~! Johnny— FUCK~!” You scream out, the continuous jerk of his hips driving you wild. “Johnnyjohnnyjohnny— ohh my— MMHN~! JOHNNYYY~!!!”

“That’s… fuckin’… ohh~ fuck~  ha— ah ahhhh~.” 

Johnny stops moving and embraces your cunt with his pulsing cock. His hot cum shoots ribbons into your pussy, coating the walls of your womb with his thick sperm. His pants were just as heavy as yours, and the air in the car smelled strongly of sex. Your head turns to look back at him only to realize he had leaned down, his hand rubbing the small of your back as he huffed. Both of you stayed silent for a while, admiring each other, which was a little different for Johnny.

“You okay?” He asks breaking the airs silence, making you smile again.

“Yeah… just really hot.”

Johnny grinned and drew his cock away from you. Both of you sigh as the feeling suddenly slips away. He settles down and observes while you prepare to follow suit. When he notices you struggling, he smiles before grabbing your arm and bringing you near to him. “C’mere.” 

You move over to him, the side of your body pressing against his. Your entire body relaxes in his arm as your head lays against him, his body radiating a warm but comforting heat. Being around him made you feel safe… oddly enough. Though god, did your lower body throb like a mother fucker.

“Still gonna go with pretty boy on Friday?” His question lingered in the air for a few seconds before you turned your head to look at him. 

“I already canceled that,” You say, shrugging your shoulders. “I have plans.”

“So you do hm?” He says with a smirk. “And what are your plans?”

Johnny understood what you meant after only seeing you grin. He gave you one back, truly pleased with your choice. His expression caused your heart to melt. He knew he had you, he claimed you as his before you even knew it. Can he… really say that this is love? Is this how it actually felt? Like the others, you were drawn in, but there was something special about it. You were the one person he really desired and cared about. The mark of his prey had been on you, his print now painted red on your body. His little red stained sunflower. 

His, and his only.

@optimsluv @chernayawidow @yixxes @marriedtoeddie @iorbit @yoong1c0re @thedollmakerkai

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[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower Pt.2

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, Suggestive Nsfw content, Mentions of Kidnapping, Obsessive/Clingy Johnny, Jealous Johnny, Small mention of murder

Requested?: Yee

Overview: Looks like you bailed on the little invitation Johnny had asked of you. It wasn’t because you didn’t want to, you actually got quite intimidated. Though that doesn’t stop him from seeking you out and making his intentions clear

A/n: So many of you wanted this to be a series, so here it is!! This is part 2 of 3!

Please comment if you would like to be tagged for part three!!! Enjoy!

Minors DNI!!!!

Part 1 - Red Stained Sunflower

“Hey Daddy?” You asked your father with the turn of your head. “How long are we gonna be in town for?”

He took a quick glance over to you before shrugging, “Oh maybe an hour or two. Just meeting with some old friends.”

You nodded your head and moved to look out the window. “I was talking to Maria on the telephone, she wanted to see if I could stop by the roller rink.” You replied to his comment. “Hope you don’t mind if I take a little detour.”

You were supposed to accompany Johnny out to the fields last night, but you decided to remain home instead. Now you were making arrangements with friends as though you weren't worried about the entire situation. You felt terrible, but you also couldn't help but feel overwhelmed by the circumstances. Yes, Johnny was appealing, and his words would make you want to explode. But LORD! Johnny Slaughter was intimidating.

Your only concern on the trip into town with your father was the fact that you had essentially abandoned one of the Slaughter Brothers. How were you going to justify your absence because you were anxious? Private moments with him... Ugh!! You weren't sure how you would be able to face him after abandoning him in that way. Like, seriously. How were you going to explain to a man like him that the reason you didn't appear was because you're a virgin…?

Your heart was racing when you arrived to the roller rink. Even though you were still troubled by thoughts of Johnny, seeing the group at the rink's entrance helped you feel less concerned. Even if you weren't close to them, you had Maria there to keep you company, so it was well worth it to slip away from your father and his group of friends to spend time with your own. You immediately identified their faces. Connie, Julie, and Ana were all grinning and laughing as Leland and Sonny stood to the side. When Maria's eyes finally found you after searching, they completely lit up.

“Hey! Y/n over here!!” Her delighted voice echoed from across the street.

As you approach everyone, you wave and smile. They all appeared to be happy to see you, which gave you a strange feeling. Can't hold yourself to blame, though; you haven't been able to leave the house much because you've been so cooped up inside helping your father with his work.

“Hey guys!” You say, greeting them happily.

“Y/n! I’m so glad you could make it!” Maria gave you a nice warm hug in return. “You remember Ana don’t you? We brought a couple friends along if you don’t mind!”

“Oh no of course not! It’ll be fun!” You shrug your shoulders, waving your arm to brush off any doubt about more people. “Let’s go inside, yeah?”

Some of the group had their own skates, while others had to rent them when they entered the rink. Since you didn’t own any skates, you obtained a pair that fit you and sat down. Though you found yourself stuck tying and untying your shoelaces. Simply said, they weren't secure enough, and you didn't intend to break an ankle today. Before you notice someone roll over, you sigh and wipe your sweaty palms on your jeans.

“Need some help?”

In his sky blue shirt and navy blue jeans, which were fastened by a brown belt, Leland stood in front of you. The skates he had rented took the place of his shoes, and he was able to move around in them with ease. He was on the wrestling team in high school, and you somewhat recognized him from there. He also hung around with this little group of people. He was really kind to say the least, tall, strong, and fairly attractive for a young man his age.

Your eyes look up at the man who you nodded at with a smile. “Please, I’m having trouble tying them tight enough.”

The Texan smirks and bends down, taking one of your feet and pulling at the strings. “Let me know if it’s too tight, okay?” You nodded once more at his voice as he started tying your skates. Before moving on to the next, he questioned as to whether or not they felt snug enough for you. You felt good about it, and he was very considerate in making the gesture. “Alright, how do they feel?” He asked standing up.

As you rise up, you circle your feet before nodding your head in appreciation. “Perfect. Better than I could ever do. Thank you, Leland.”

His eyes squint when he gives a genuine smile, a gesture to your thankful remark. “Anytime. Say, I don’t see ya’ around here often. Do ya’… know how to skate?”

Oh dear God, you can't recall the last time you entered that rink. You probably haven't done it in months, and you weren't doing it frequently to begin with. You chuckle nervously while rubbing your hands together behind your back. “Uh… kinda? It’s been a while.” You admit to him. “I’m not the best skater but it’ll come back! I just get nervous when other people go fast past me.”

Just standing there made your legs feel like jello. You tried to move closer to Leland but all you did was sway back and forth. He chuckled at this, the male moving forward to grab your shoulders and prevent you from toppling. “I can teach ya’, practice makes perfect.”

“Says the one who was in the wrestling team.” You roll your eyes at him, making the man laugh in response. “I’d be on the ground more times than you’d like.”

“Hey! I’m a good teacher! We can go nice and slow at first, and you’ll still have a great time… in the rink, I mean. That sounded so weird…”

You giggled at his words, making his cheeks dust a soft pink. He was such a dork… cute.

“Come on guys! We’ve been waiting!” Exclaims Julie from the rink, making you and Leland look over.

“We’re coming,” You said, shifting past Leland with your wobbly legs as you made your way over. “I’m trying not to die. You guys are much more experienced at this.”

You almost went over with just one foot on that surface, but once you were stable, everything was good. Leland swiftly followed after you as you joined the others with a sigh of relief. Getting acclimated to the people and the surroundings took some time. You were still unable to go as quickly as Julie or Maria, who frequently sped by you.

“I’m gonna go around a couple times. Think you can handle it on ya’ own?” Leland asks, that genuine smile making you give one in return.

“For now. Go ahead, I’ll catch up eventually.”

After hearing your response, he quickly speeds away while teasing Maria and Julie about catching up. You chuckle, enjoying how this afternoon will play out. It was lovely to see everyone enjoying themselves. Being outside of the house felt wonderful. The gang laughed and joked as they skated around the rink. Leland was always there to catch you even if you were a little awkward and nearly fell a few times. He gave you a comforting smile as you both laughed despite how embarrassing it was. The group stopped to acquire some food after some time spent skating. Even though your heart was still beating from all the excitement, you were happy that you and your friends were having such a good time.

After a few hours, everyone departed the rink exhausted but content. You said your goodbyes and thanked them for an amazing time. You were relieved that you had chosen to go out with them as opposed to staying home or being barraged by your father’s older friends who wanted to talk to you.

“Hey Y/n,” Leland had said, catching you before you left. “I was wondering, I usually come around here at this time of day. Did you… wanna skate with me next week?”

You thought about it, and it didn’t hurt to meet some new people around. Even though he was closer with Maria, maybe a new group of people would be nice to hang around with. “Sure. Are you busy next Friday?”

“Great! Uhm… No, that should be fine. I’ll see ya’ then?”

You nodded your head, grinning as you left, feeling satisfied with the events of the day as you made your way back to meet with your father.

——

After a long, productive day, you were just finishing your shower at home. You check that your hair isn't excessively dripping before stepping out of the restroom while you're wrapped in a towel. No one was awake to bother you this late in the evening since your father was asleep. Your room was upstairs, turning left down the hall and another left past the bathroom across from it. Your father was immediately up the stairs to the right of the hall in his own room.

You entered your room and turned to lock the door behind you before turning on the lights. Despite the events earlier, your mind still wandered to Johnny. Johnny, Johnny, Johnny. Once more, you were unable to remove him from your head. Another day without communication meant that you would have to make an effort to avoid having to give an explanation. You sigh and close your eyes before turning to head for your dresser. In spite of this, as soon as you open them, you jump and cover your mouth to stifle the surprised sound that escapes from you.

“Johnny!” Looking at the man who was idly sitting on your bed fiddling with his hair, you blurted out. Your heart was pounding furiously. What the hell was he doing here? How did he get in here? What is he doing here??? He just sat in the dark, waiting for you to come in like… like a weirdo!! “The fuck are you doing? Why are you in my room?!”

His clothing caught your attention because it was a little different from what he typically wore. He appeared to have just taken a shower because his hair was moist and combed back. His navy blue jeans were fastened to his hips by a brown belt, and his dark gray long sleeve shirt was rolled to the dips of his arms just above his elbows. He wore his worn-out boots, without gloves to protect his calloused hands, and grinned endlessly.

“Should really keep that back window locked. So much easier than havin’ ta’ lock pick my way in at night.” He spoke quietly, as if he knew your father was in the room next to him. Low, as if he knew what trouble sneaking in here could get him into. “Ya’ don’t look happy ta’ see me sweetpea. Did I do something~?”

“Well for one, you’re in my room… uninvited.” You drew closer to the man who was lounging on your bed, your brows furrowed at him, your nose flared. “And I’m in a towel…naked! What if I started changing because I didn’t know you were here??”

Your face instantly turned red as his smile grew larger. He wasn't even required to respond to the question. You snort before turning around and returning to your door to lock it. The worst-case scenario would be your father interrupting you two. Yes, you were a grown woman, but technically speaking, sneaking someone into the house would not look so inviting. Especially if it was the Slaughter boy.

“Jesus… just— why are you here?” You ask, turning back to the man who you didn’t realize stood in those moments you were turned around. He appeared... distracted. It seemed as though he was thinking about or bothered by something.

“Oh me? I jus’ wanted ta’ see ya’!” He said with the slight wave of his hands. “I wanted ta’ know whatchu were doin’, cause… obviously, it wasn’t me.”

“Yeah about that…” You trailed off, looking at the floor for a moment. It was… a nice floor. Maybe staring at it would help you think about how to tell him without feeling like a total idiot. “I just got… a little nervous.”

You looked up at the man as he surprised you with a chuckle. His facial expressions were unpredictable. He appears disturbed one second, then happy the next. Even just looking at him made you feel conflicted. Your hands were holding onto the towel that was about to fall down your body as he started to approach you. “Nervous hm? About what?”

You sighed as you cast a glimpse his way and fiddled with the towel covering your body. “I don’t know how to explain…”

“Come on now, ya’ don’t have ta’ be scared ‘round me,” Johnny gave reassurance while smiling oddly relaxed. Observing the shit-eating grin that emerged on his face, you gave him a little glare. “Okay maybe a lil’ bit~. But come on, it can’t be that bad!”

He makes you huff and shrug your shoulders in response. Why did talking about this seem so embarrassing? It was Johnny… In any case, he didn't have much to say about it. Right? You grumble, your mouth twitching slightly as your nose flares once more. “I didn’t come because… I was nervous about being a virgin.”

The last few words were mumbled, but it appears like Johnny heard them right away. At that instant, Johnny's lips curled into a wicked grin, which his hand moved to conceal right away. You shivered, a chill running up your spine at the laugh that burst forth from his throat seconds later. “That’s the reason? Cause, nobody’s taken yer lil’ cherry yet~?”

“It’s not funny!” You exclaim slapping his bicep, only to obtain another silly laugh from him. “It’s a sensitive thing! I have a right to be anxious about it!! Especially if… those intentions were indicated.”

“Oh honeybee, ya’ think I’d feel any different?” Johnny said with the shrug of his shoulders. “I mean— I’m a lil’ surprised! A pretty girl like you? I would’ve expected it to be long gone by now.”

“Well it’s not so you can stop teasing me about it,” You pout, crossing your arms with the shake of your head.

At that very time, Johnny was getting closer to you and dipping his head slightly. His eyebrows dropped, his gaze became unreadable, and his hands, which fiddled with his belt, twitched in anticipation as his voice abruptly shifted to a low tone. “How cute, and ta’ think, I’ll be the one takin’ it from ya’~.”

“Eh- You-…” You turned in defeat as the sentence that attempted to form failed miserably. You scowl and head to your dresser to look for something to wear. “God I hate you sometimes. I can just imagine how much it would hurt.”

Johnny smirked as he approached from behind you and gently grabbed your shoulders. “Oh I won’t hurtcha, much.” He replied. “I’ll go nice and slow for ya’ darlin’.”

“I doubt that,” Smiling, you respond before shutting the dresser door and turning to face Johnny. His eagerness was evident from the little shudder of his shoulders as his hands were now in his pockets. “You’re thinking about it too much.”

“Maybe I am~.” He says, slyly smiling while momentarily averting his gaze. “Ya’ know I can’t help myself doll. Even now, just lookin’ at ya’ makes me excited.”

You rolled your eyes after moving around him to your bed, placing your clothes on it with a soft pat. “I’m in a towel with nothing under it, of course you’re excited.” You say sarcastically.

“Well, ya’ did look good earlier today,” Johnny stated, making you freeze in place. He had a menacing smirk on his face when you turned to face him.

“You were in town today?”

“Jus’ happened ta’ be,” Responded Johnny with a shrug. “Saw ya’ walkin’ ta’ that lil’ roller rink on the side of town with ya’ lil’ friends.”

“Yeah, I had planned to go out with them that morning.” You spoke to him, fiddling with the towel.

Johnny moved a few steps closer to you while humming and tilting his head. “Oh I know! Ya’ looked like ya’ had fun, especially with pretty boy touchin’ up all on ya’.”

As much as how he seemed, his vocal tone also appeared to shift. He appeared agitated, as far as you could tell. You didn’t even have to mention Leland, he had been watching you that whole time. The encounters you had with the other young adult in question. He absolutely despised it. Just having the idea of how furious he would have been as Leland assisted you in any way he could. Was he… no, he couldn’t be.

“So, you’re telling me that you followed me and watched me with my friends today?”

The man's mouth twisted in annoyance as he let out a little giggle. “Curiosity got the best o’ me, I will admit.” Johnny said, his half lidded eyes looking away. He clenched his jaw and pursed his lips before turning to face you.

“Well, we’re just friends if that’s what you’re wondering.”

“Sure– I mean, I have no problem with it! I mean if ‘e touches ya’ again,” Johnny lets out a laugh. “He never will, let’s jus’ leave it at that.”

“Oh? Is that so?” You ask with a smirk. “And to think, Johnny Slaughter is jealous of another man.”

“Jealous?! AHA– I’m not jealous!” He makes an effort to justify his obsessive tendencies, but it simply serves to highlight it. His eyes widen, “I jus’ didn’t like how ‘e was feelin’ up on ya’, how’s that bein’ jealous?!”

“You’re getting all defensive.”

“When??”

“Right now?”

“I’m jus’ sayin’ I’m not!”

You couldn't help laughing, which made the man snarl. It was cute how obvious he made it. Observing his vulnerable side manifest itself in this way due to someone else? Johnny's jealousy wasn't anything you anticipated. He was a man who frequently showed little regard for the actions or words of others. However, it was a different story when it came to you. He seems a little uneasy when his family would speak to you. The man appeared to be extremely possessive of anything he so claimed as his.

“Come on now, you don’t have to be scared around me,” You spoke.

Johnny's cheeks had turned a delicate shade of pink. He rolled his eyes at your remark and scoffed while shaking his head. “I ain’t scared sunshine,” He replied with his smile coming back. “If I was, I wouldn’t have snuck into ya’ house.” Your eyes widened in shock as the man grabbed your arm and drew you up against him. “I wouldn’t tell ya’ righ’ now, that yer my girl.”

“You don’t have me just yet.”

“Oh, I don’t?” Johnny lifts your chin and lowers his face to meet yours only a few inches away. “But ya’ want me, no? Jus’ lookin’ at those eyes ya’ want me.” Your eyelids flutter closed as he rubs his nose against yours. He was well aware of the fact that he had you. “I’ll treat ya’ like a princess darlin’, I’ll spoil ya’ so rotten that ya’ can’t get enough of me. Cause I want ya’, I need ya’.”

If this was a way for Johnny to swoon you over, he sure was doing it. However, you were curious to see how much further he would swing. He draws back his head and lets go of your chin as you open your eyes in order to tuck a hair behind your ear.

“You should tell me more.”

“Really?” Johnny says as his brows begin to converge. When he senses your seriousness, he smirks and lets out a tiny chuckle. “I’d kill for ya’, I’d die for ya’, I’m sooo head over heels.”

You smile, shaking your head. “You’re so funny.”

“Amused?” He hums, making you giggle in response. In return, pleased by the remark, Johnny snorts. “Needy lil’ thing aren’t cha’? Makin’ me all soft.”

“I thought you were excited.”

“Cheeky lil’ brat ya’ are darlin’,” Johnny scoffs. “If I wasn’t I wouldn’t be so damn close! Y’know– I wouldn’t be talkin’ fa’ someone who’s so red in the face.”

“You’re just as flustered as me,” You roll your eyes. “You should’ve seen your face when you got all jelly~.”

“Eh– I wasn’t–... sh-shut up.”

“Make me~.”

Johnny's eyes appeared to be playing cat and mouse with you. As if it wasn’t the third or fourth time he licked his lips this evening. His teeth were exposed in a ferocious smile, giving him an almost feral appearance. “Oh I could– but actually, it probably wouldn’t shut ya’ up sweetheart.” He takes your hips, making you softly gasp. “You’d be loud– no you’d be screamin’ honey. I’d make sure of that– oh I’d make sure, the only thing on your mind is me~.”

Johnny made a sound of interest as you placed your hands on his chest. The excitement he felt then was much greater. The way his hands drew you in his direction and the way they tightly grabbed your hips caught you off guard. Once more lowering his head, Johnny first brushes his cheek against yours before moving his lips toward your ear. His hands shifted, reaching your waist.

“Is that what ya’ wanted ta’ hear? How I’ll make sure those legs of ya’s are shakin’ when I fuck ya’ good? Hm? How I’ll make ya’ cum, over, and over on my cock? I can only imagine.” Your body tenses up in response to his comments, and he grins as a result. “Feelin’ ya’ squirm under me. That cute lil’ pussy clenchin’ so tight you’ll make my head spin. Ohhh darlin’, I wanna feel ya’ nails diggin’ in my back as I take ya’. Inch. By. Inch~.”

A subtle sound came from you. Considering that it was subconscious, you weren't sure if it was a whimper or a moan. Your thighs drove together as you made an effort to hide the sudden jolts that surged up through your abdomen. He... really did have a way with words.

“Awwwe~. Are ya’ gettin’ excited now?” Johnny had moved his head away from yours, taking one good look at your reddened face. His tongue ran over the top row of his teeth as he took one good look at your body. The rise and fall of your chest, your gaze struggling to meet his, and the mere sight of your thighs clamping together. Heh. How could he not notice? “It looks like ya’ are.”

You were startled, or perhaps more accurately, flustered. In that instant, Johnny made you feel just how you'd imagined when you'd read about getting hot and bothered in books. You were completely in shock as you stared at the man with your mouth open and nothing coming out of it. How could you respond to that? Could you… even respond? Observing his every move while remaining motionless, nothing came out of your lips, not a single word.

“Gotta question for ya’ doll,” He said, glancing at the wall for a moment. “Don’t have ta’ be shy now, I know what ya’ want. How about ya’ come down ta’ the fields like we planned, yeah?”

You swallowed thickly, seeing as he removed himself from you entirely. What a damn tease. “Tomorrow?”

“Preferably,” Responded Johnny. “Or ya’ plans with pretty boy can go bye bye next Friday, and ya’ can spend it with me instead.”

“You're still on that?” You say with a raised brow. “How do you even know we made plans?”

He growled and clicked the roof of his mouth with his tongue, his eyes moving away from you. “I heard ya’.”

“Heard me? Or you were eavesdropping?”

You and Johnny exchanged looks, and that glare gave you all you needed to know. Let’s be real, it’s a little odd knowing that he had been spying on you, but seeing him jealous was like seeing a spoiled little boy now getting what he wanted.

Johnny’s eyes fluttered closed with a sigh, crossing his arms in defeat. “Y’know— you… I— yer really gettin’ on my nerves!”

“Good,” You say with a small smile. “And I’ll think about coming tomorrow.”

“Oh there’s no thinkin’ honeybee,” Johnny said with a mischievous smile. “I’ll make sure yer there, I’ll steal ya’ if I need ta’— hell! If it means I need ta’ kidnap ya’.”

“You wouldn’t do that.”

“Maybe if ya’ wait long enough, you’ll find out~.”

Part 3 is up!! >>> RSSF PT.3

@optimsluv @chernayawidow @yixxes @marriedtoeddie

[sinsofbeauty]

Red Stained Sunflower

Fandom: The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Game

Pairing: Johnny Slaughter x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Use of Pet Names, suggestive nsfw content, Johnny being “nice”, minor kidnapping mention

Requested?: Nah

Overview: The only car breaks down and your father can’t afford to fix it. He doesn’t have many options, but when you suggest a certain someone to take a look at, he can't help but feel uneasy. Little did you know that decision will lead to a whirlwind of trouble.

A/n: Thinking about making it into a series, so let me know what you guys think! Enjoy!

Your father was very upset this morning, and you couldn’t quite figure out why. He was stomping around the house huffing and puffing, mumbling to himself as you fixed up some breakfast. Up the stairs, down the stairs, back into the work shed. It made you furrow your brows, bewildered by his behavior. You set the table and sat down hoping to find out the cause as he made his way into the room. You haven’t really seen him this irritated in a long time, and he moved around restlessly despite him taking a seat for the first time this morning… still quite agitated.

"The car is acting up again," he complained, shoving a forkful of egg and toast into his mouth.

“Again?” You ask, spreading butter on a piece of warm toast. “Daddy I told you it was bound to break. Why don’t you take it to the shop?”

Your father looked up, annoyed, and shook his head. "It's too expensive," he explained after swallowing a bite. "The fence is falling apart and the shed needs repairs. I can't afford to manage all that work on my own, and it would cost an arm just to get in there."

“You could always have Johnny take a look at it.”

Your suggestion made him pause, his gaze incredulous as you shrugged. "Johnny Slaughter?"

“Yes Daddy, Johnny Slaughter.” You replied.

His eyes dropped into something more serious than before, and you could notice the changes in his facial expressions. If he didn't appear to be worried about it, that is. "What's going on between you and that boy Y/n? People in the community are always talking about that family, you know.” This was his technique of lecturing you, making you look at him with utter boredom. "He and his family are equally dangerous! What happens if the rumors are true?” Indeed. Rumors. The ones where members of the Slaughter family kept individuals in a cellar to later consume them? Or the ones that they were ferocious and would try to eat anyone who approached their house? Yeah, those.

“What if they aren't though?” You retorted while arching your brow. “Given how much time I've spent with Johnny, I figure something would have happened by now.”

"You're still spending time with him?!"

Oops. Yeah, that wasn’t supposed to come out like that. As your father flailed his arms around, you were slumped in your chair, picking at your food. So, as he lectured you about your decisions, you carried on eating your meal silently. He mentioned the potential damage to your reputation and the possible consequences for your family. Although he had legitimate worries, you also knew that he had a history with them, which probably contributed to his strong opinions.

“Relax,” You said, waving a hand. “It’s been a little bit since I’ve seen him anyway. If he really wanted to eat me he probably would’ve come by the house.” Your father gave you a disgusted look, making you smile nervously before setting your fork down on your empty plate. "On a… serious note, just this once," you attempted to negotiate. "Let Johnny take a look at the car; maybe he won't charge much."

“Johnny Slaughter is nothing but trouble.” Your father mumbled.

"You already mentioned that," you retorted, raising your brows. "Daddy it could save us money if we give it a shot." You stood up from your chair taking your dirty dishes and shrugging your shoulders. By the look on his face, you could tell your father was debating long and hard about it.

Letting out a sigh, your father rubbed his temples. He shook his head once more in thought before lightly thumping the table. "Just this one time," he asserted. “I’ll check with them after breakfast.”

“I can always go now while you fix the fence.“

“I don’t want you standing mere feet in front of the Slaughter boy,” Your father said standing with his empty plate in hand.

“You really think he’s gonna do something?” You say, raising a brow at him before transitioning into the kitchen. The long pause caught you off guard, considering that you expected your father to say something snarky or a short insult about Johnny. Though nothing came.

Your father had made his way into the kitchen, dumping his plate into the sink with his utensils. He gave you a firm look, his jaw clenched together tightly. "Check with him after the dishes while I try to fix the fence. If you're not back by lunch, I'm calling the sheriff."

You smiled and nodded while placing your own dishes in the sink. You hadn't seen Johnny in some time, primarily because your father didn't approve. Though he undoubtedly had little choice given the circumstances, you knew he would keep his word.

——

You arrived at the Slaughter House after what seemed like a never-ending trip. Having taken the back way since it was a little faster, it led you to the backyard which seemed for the most part unoccupied. You peered across to check if anyone was working yet as you leaned on the wooden fence. If it wasn’t Johnny it was most certainly Sissy prancing around here, roaming the sunflower fields in her bare feet. You briefly blinked, but you couldn't make out a single individual anywhere. It could have been simpler to go the long way to the front. However, just as you were ready to walk away, Sissy appeared from one of the back sheds. She doesn’t notice you right away, but when she does she approaches the fence, face once stoic turning into something… unusual. Almost like a fake smile, nothing enthusiastic whatsoever.

“Oh that’s who it is,” She said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “Lookin’ for Johnny?”

Your eyes swept the surroundings as you furrowed your brows and nodded. “Uhm yeah… I wanted to talk to him. Is he here?”

“Of course ya’ do,” She said, looking at you up and down. The woman had turned her back to you before calling out his name, walking away completely as she made her way towards the shed she was just in.

Your eyes avert back to the shed, seconds later seeing Johnny peek his head out. Sissy gestures behind her and says something that you couldn’t quite hear, but it prompts Johnny to tuck something away and head over. Never have you seen a man jog so fast in his life.

“Hey sunshine!” As a silly grin developed on his face, his voice resonated in your ears. He walked up to you with his head tilted to the side and his thumbs in his belt loops. “Finally came ta’ see me hm? I thought I’d have to kidnap you from yer old man.”

You smile softly, watching as you take a step away from the fence. “The old man is the reason why I didn’t come.” You spoke to him. “I thought you’d be mad about it.”

“Mad?” Johnny chuckled as he leaned his arms on the fence. “Bein’ honest? I knew ya’d come crawlin’ back, ya’ can’t resist me~.”

You rolled your eyes at him with a smirk, making him cackle in response. Johnny had a tendency to be quite… charming. Flirtatious if you might say. He was a very attractive man and he knew that, with a simple snap of a finger he could probably get a dozen women on their knees. Maybe it was one of the reasons why he would get so many lingering stares when he’s in town. It’s not like you haven’t seen him there getting stuff like tools or groceries. The man could be persuasive as well. If it wasn’t for his good looks and deadly charm, your intentions would probably be… elsewhere.

“I suppose the reason you’re here isn’t jus’ ta’ see me, is it?”

You suddenly look up at Johnny, who is grinning slyly with his thin lips. Before shrugging your shoulders, your nose lets out an amused huff. “You can say that’s part of it,” You reply, making his grin widen. “Though I needed to ask a favor.”

“Anythin’ for you doll,” Johnny said to you. “What is it ya’ need?”

“Well the car is out of commission, not sure why. Was wondering if you could take a look at it?”

Johnny nodded his head and looked over his shoulder, gazing at Sissy who had just walked into the house. “Oh sure, it shouldn't be too hard now should it?” He said looking back at you with a raised brow. “Did ya’ tell yer old man?”

“I made the suggestion.”

“How’d ‘e take it?”

“You know daddy doesn’t like you all that much.”

Your sentence caused Johnny's eyes to flinch suddenly, and his jaw to clench slightly before briefly relaxing. “I could really care less ‘bout what ‘e thinks.” He replied with the small shrug of his shoulders. “But ‘e agreed did ‘e?”

“With a little convincing yes,” You replied with the nod of your head. “I was hoping you could possibly stop by today?”

“I can go righ’ now if ya’ want to.”

“That would be great.”

Johnny nodded his head and pushed himself off the fence. “Alright, I’ll go get the truck. Comin’ inside?”

You shook your head no. You expected yourself to be swarmed with his family. They did ask a lot of questions and you didn’t want to be bombarded to answer. Which honestly made you curious, considering what they ask is quite… strange. “No but thanks, I'll start heading home. I’ll meet you there.”

——

The lemonade you had prepared hadn’t been long. It was sweet, and tasted amazing. You hummed taking a sip from your own cup, setting it down on the counter before pouring another glass. Transitioning to the back door you take a glimpse through the window, which made you stop completely in your tracks.

There he was, the Slaughter boy working on the car out back. His slicked back hair came undone while little strands stuck to his forehead, the one he wiped sweat off from due to the heat from the Texas sun. Gloved hand reaching down to the hem of his shirt, lifting it up to wipe his drenched face. Those muscles, his toned frame as he turned slightly, all so shaped with scars of an unknown origin. It made your face heat up, cheeks dusted with a bright blush that only darkened when you stepped away from the window. Johnny was a fine looking man, and there was no doubt in his mind that you had some hidden feelings for him.

You opened the door to the back porch, a glass of cold lemonade in hand. Your thin flats make way to Johnny, strolling in your shirt and shorts. Jeez it's hot out. The closer you got to Johnny just showed how drenched he was in sweat.

“How’s it going?” You ask, finally approaching Johnny with the glass. “I got you this, you look like you need it.”

Johnny’s brown orbs flicked over to you, his brows raising in an instant. “You’re a sweetheart ya’ know that,” A smile spreads across his cheeks. Taking the glass from you he sighs, putting it up to his lips and taking large gulps from the beverage. You couldn’t help but stare, and when he was done he licked his lips before looking at you. Look at him all smug, the man chuckling as he took the hood of the car and slammed it shut. “Like whatcha see darlin’?”

You pucker your lips and blinked in shame, realizing you had been staring at him intently. Then you grunted and crossed your arms as the person in front of you laughed. Such a confident smile on a man. It surprised you that you didn't seem to care about it as much as you implied. “I’d like to see if the car is fixed,” You replied with the simple roll of your eyes, making Johnny take the keys from his pocket and wave them in your face. With that, you went to grab them but he pulled his hand back.

“I have a question for ya’.” He blurts, the keys still in his possession. “I remember the las’ time ya’ said somethin’— when ya’ came over. ‘Bout the sunflower fields, yeah?”

You blinked at his question, nodding your head in response. “Oh… yeah, I think I remember.” Raising your brows you thought about it for a moment. “I think it was how pretty they looked in the evening. Though I didn’t get to stay for long.”

You recall it clearly leaving at that time. In your short sundress, you stood next to Johnny as he leaned his back against his truck while you spoke. The man had just finished his cigarette, leaving a difficult day at the back of his boot. Before you arrived, the brunette and a member of his family got into an argument. In any case, that is all he told you. You had just mentioned the sunflower fields and how much you cherished the scene each time you visited. How lovely they appeared in the garden in the waning evening light.

During that time you had caught Johnny staring, his brown orbs gazing from where he leaned at on the side of the car. You had made a comment, making him smirk and push himself off the vehicle. “You’ve got some nerve sunshine,” His voice all teasing as he took your wrist. The man had pulled you close to him, the heat from his body signaling your proximity. “We’re all alone out here. If I wanted ta’ ‘stare at you all night’, I know jus’ the way to do it~.”

The reality that was only intensifying your blush had slowly crept back into your thoughts. Johnny had drawn nearer to you, which you suddenly realized. His face was incredibly close to yours—just inches apart. You raised your head to see him as his eyes played with a sly sparkle.

“Thinkin’ ‘bout it too?” His tone of voice was playful. Given that you didn't react, he laughed. “I know ya’ are darlin’, considerin’ I have it on my mind.”

Your breathing quickened, and it seemed as though a simple step or downward lean would practically close the distance between you. You couldn't speak because your stomach was churning with butterflies.

“I almost had ya’, if it wasn’t for Sissy butting into what didn’t concern her.”

Johnny didn’t have to say much to make you feel flustered, let alone so excited by him. His words had made your thighs press together slightly, in an attempt to hide that feeling which pooled in the pit of your abdomen. Oh and did he notice. He was observant to say the least, so of course he noticed the subtle movement of your thighs just clamping together. Pressing together at his words that you knew in some ways were true.

“How cute,” He teased, making your eyes widen slightly. “And ta’ think— you didn’t want me, but look at cha’. Holding those cute little thighs taa’ hide what I do to ya’.”

“No! That’s not true!” You fought with him, taking the keys from his hands while he was so distracted. Johnny chuckled as you moved quickly to the driver’s side door, opening it and hopping in. Putting the key into the ignition, you look over at the man who was gesturing you to roll the window down. With a loud huff you did. Set his arms on the opening of the window, a shit-eating grin appearing on his face. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“No reason,” He responded. The young man watched as you turned the car on, the engine running to life and your face lighting up in the process. “Good as new. Jus’ a couple loose wires and bolts.”

“You’re a lifesaver,” You thank him, turning the car off. “Now I don’t have to walk miles just for a carton of milk.”

“You’ve been walkin’?”

“It’s been an on and off issue.”

Johnny raised his brows at that, but shrugged his shoulders moments later. “Well if it breaks down again, come by and see me.”

“Why thank you,” You roll your eyes and open the door to the car, making Johnny step away as you pull yourself out. “It’s getting close to lunch time, would you like something to eat while you go home?”

When it was time to close the door, you noticed that Johnny had been creeping up again. When you turned, he was as close as he had been before. It was like a predator stalking his lonesome prey, all alone with nowhere to go. He wrapped his thumbs in his belt loops, eyes glancing at the house before his full attention on you. “Shooin’ me ta’ leave already?” He grinned, making you roll your eyes again.

You cross your arms, this boy had some nerve. Standing so dangerously close and making those remarks. “I was trying to be nice.”

“So sweet,” Sarcasm poured from his lips as a large smile curled. “But sure, as long as it's as sweet as you~.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You could feel your face start to heat up again, oh did it amuse Johnny. His charm worked without even having to break a sweat.

“Playin’ dumb hm?” He had a cheeky smile on his face. “If ya’ want, I can get inta’ more detail.”

You were hesitant, feeling the raw stare of questioning eyes from afar. The tilt of Johnny’s head fuels your hesitation but only momentarily. “Johnny you shouldn’t be so close,” You say, your eyes wandering to the window who you expected your father to be watching. They widened and went back to Johnny immediately. “Daddy’s watching us.”

Johnny’s eyebrows come close together, making the bridge of his nose scrunch light folds. “And?” His voice lowers an octave, eyelids lowering to a half lidded stare. “Could stare all ‘e wants.” His eyes lower into a half lidded stare, his smile fading away. He looked… dangerous. “Ya’ liked those sunflower fields huh? Why don’t cha’ come by this evenin’ after eatin’?”

“You know I can’t do that…”

A hint of disappointment sparkled in Johnny’s eyes. “Why not?” His voice sounded almost monotone.

“Because—“

You hear the back porch door open, turning your head to see your father walking out of the house. Johnny took the opportunity to step back from you, moving his way to the front hood of the car. Despite your father’s efforts, he still had a suspicious look on his face. He approached the two of you, his hands once shoved in his pockets now out as he moved around to the side of the car where you were.

“Is she fixed?” He asked, Johnny nodding his head.

“Yessir, jus’ a couple wires and bolts.” The Slaughter boy replied. “Shouldn’t be any issue fer now, but yer more than welcome ta’ stop on by if it happens again.”

Your father nodded, inspecting the vehicle and getting the keys from you. “I’mma take her for a drive, see if she’s running properly. I… appreciate your help… Johnny.”

The grin on his face told you plenty. “Anytime.” Johnny said to your father.

The man who raised you had given you a side eye, taking a sigh before going to the car. He had hopped in and both you and Johnny moved away. “Did you want to come?” He had asked you.

“Oh no, I’ll get dinner ready.” You said waving your hand. “You’re just going to town right? It should be almost done by the time you get here.”

Your father had indicated that it wouldn't be long by nodding. He was aware that leaving you with Johnny could lead to problems, but since you were an adult, he couldn't stop you from doing it. After saying that, he drove off the property while you closed the fence in his absence. You watched as he proceeded down the road until, at last, the car was no longer in view.

“So… about the fields.” You turn to Johnny, who you had heard from behind you with his heavy boots. He’d been smoking a cigarette, the bud stuck in his mouth while his hand shoved something in his back pocket. “You said after supper?”

“Ohhh, are ya’ considerin’?”

“Shut up,” You scoff, crossing your arms and rolling your eyes. “Maybe if you say please… I might consider it.”

“You’re kiddin’?” You smile and shrug your shoulders, making Johnny roll his eyes with the click of his tongue. “Please?”

“You could do better.”

It made him laugh, shaking his head with a malicious smile. He had cleared his throat, leaning in close to you before he purred a low, “Please~?”

It made you blush deeply, before coughing softly to look away. “Okay… you’ve convinced me.” Side eyeing him, you smirk. “Could’ve been better.”

“Cheeky lil’ thing aren’t ya’?” He scoffs. “I’ll see ya’ later then, sweet pea.”

Tags: @optimsluv

Part 2 is up! >> RSSF PT.2

[sinsofbeauty]

Tipsy King

Fandom: COD MW2

Pairing: Tipsy!Konig x Fem!Reader

Requested: Yes :)

Warnings: Mentions of alcohol, König is a bit more than tipsy, Soft Smut!, Sub! König, Oral M. Receiving

Overview: At home alone while your husband is out with a group of friends. When he comes home he can’t help but feel a little hungry, but your touch has him craving for something a little more spicy

A/n: One request done! I was on a bit of a hiatus but here y’all go! Request was anonymous through messages, so I hope they like this! Requests are open, and enjoy you guys!

You had just finished putting the containers of prepared food in the fridge, closing it shut before adjusting the towel on your chest. It was a late night and you didn’t want to go to sleep just yet, so you took a shower and did some cooking to get yourself occupied. Your husband was out with friends at the moment which to you was quite the surprise. He wasn’t one to go out drinking or partying but you guessed that he was probably dragged by one of his colleagues. It made you happy knowing that he went with them, considering that he stayed at the house with you whenever he was home. You loved him to bits but it was about time he spent some of his free time with others.

Hearing the door jingle from the living room, your ears perked up at the noise of your significant other entering the home. His footsteps were slow, quite scattered if you kept track of how he walked, but eventually he had gotten into the kitchen. You were washing your hands at the moment after scrubbing the counter down when you felt a large embrace from behind. Large arms wrapped around your frame, and a head placed itself on your shoulder. A small hum escaped from his throat in which made you giggle in response.

“Tired?” You asked, turning off the water to the sink. “Seems like you had a little too much fun.” You can smell the strong scent of alcohol. Explains the staggered steps and the way he was acting. Your husband nodded his head in your shoulder, his grip tightening on you while he tried stuffing his face deeper into it. Smiling you moved slightly to grab the small towel next to you, drying off your hands.

“Do we still have leftovers…?”

Your eyebrows raised at the sudden sound of his voice. It was a lot deeper than normal, more relaxed if you put it in other words. His accent seemed to stick out a little more and to be honest you liked it quite a bit. “We have a little bit. Are you hungry?”

“Mmhmm…”

“I can warm something up for you. Would you like that?”

Your husband nodded his head in your shoulder before taking his weight off of you. Turning slightly as you go to the fridge, you watch the man walk away, hitting the doorframe with his shoulder in the process. A smirk lifted your lips when you heard him mumble an ‘ow’, giggling softly when you opened the refrigerator door. You haven’t seen König drink in a long time, and even then you don’t remember the last time he had been drunk. Although he was the Affectionate Drunk. He would be puddle of happiness, hugging up on or getting close to people in such a loving manner. He was really a sweetheart when he wasn’t so reserved, or on the battlefield in that matter.

The microwave beeped before you had taken the food out you had just warmed up. Walking to the living room, you see König sitting on the couch. When he noticed your presence he looked over. You were met with his black veil, the fabric covering his features other than his eyes. They looked half lidded, a little disoriented as he kept looking from one part of your body to another. It followed with his black tee and off gray jeans, in which looked like something had been spilled on the front of them.

“It’s a little hot,” You warned, setting the tupperware down on the coffee table. “It was the last of the leftovers so hopefully it fills that appetite of yours.”

“Danke,” König spoke as you took a seat next to him on the couch. He lifted his veil to his nose and picked up the container of food. It wasn’t long before he started eating it like the beast he was. It was gone in a matter of minutes, which didn’t surprise you with how fast he had to eat out on the field. “Did you miss me when I was gone?”

You turned your head slightly to König, nodding your head in response. Placing your hand on his back he sighed out, and pretty heavy at that. “Did you miss me?”

“Yes.” His voice changed in an instant. The familiar tone made your eyes move down towards his pants, and oh boy what a huge fucking tent you saw. “I missed you… your touch feels good.”

The environment shifted quickly, giving you a slight blush as a result. Your heart was pounding as your husband spoke while shifting his hips. Even though it was late, you were nevertheless pleased to see your him in such a state. It was quite… submissive. You put your other hand on his stomach, which stiffened up at the touch. "Would you like more of my touch?" König remained silent, but you could tell he appreciated what you were doing by the way his body responded to you. Surprisingly, he liked to be physically spoiled, especially by you. The man was quite affectionate and inclined to give rather than receive in the bedroom. That situation would change now.

You adjusted yourself on the couch and used your hand to sit your husband back all the way, his eyes shifting to you. With one hand on his shoulder, the other focused on massaging his clothed body. His chest, abs, and down to the lower part of his stomach where you stopped before going back up again. Because of his aching bulge, his hips jolted a little as you put your palm so close to them, giving away that his patience was wearing thin.

“Schatz…p-please..” He whined breathlessly. “I can’t take it…please, touch me please…”

At the very thought of you touching him, you could feel his body trembling gradually, and once you did, you watch him dissolve below you. His hand that was closest to you grasped your thigh somewhat tightly, but you didn't mind as you started softly massaging his clothed cock. König was incredibly needy tonight; it was probably the combination of a little excitement and the alcohol he had. After all, he could only picture your naked body because you were still covered by the bath towel. To provide him with some relief, you unbuckled his belt and then undid the buttons on his jeans before lowering the zipper, raising the flaps.

“Can you pull these down for me?” You asked, tugging at his pants.

He complied, taking them down to his knees before they fell to the ground. Afterwards, you switched your position and moved from the couch to in between his legs. As you knelt down, you could see the sudden change in your husband's eyes. He was almost begging you to do what you were about to do just with a look, and it pleased you. You took hold of the hem of his briefs and gently tugged them down till his cock was uncovered. The bead that rested on the tip of his penis had already started to leak before, and it was flowing down after a slight overflow. You gripped the base of his penis in your hands, puffy red and stiffened with need. He put his hand up to his mouth, which he had not yet covered from earlier eating, and gasped at the slightest contact.

“Sensitive today,” You spoke, leading your hand up and down his shaft with ease. The pre cum had applied itself as a lubricant for now, your hand gliding itself onto his girthy dick indeed. König was not only large in size, but the length he has under his clothes is fairly large itself. “Does it feel good baby?” Your other hand comes into contact to fulfill his needs all around.

“Y-Yes…it’s- mhn~ feels great. Please don’t stop…f-fuck- ah! Don’t stop!”

You kept pumping your hands up and down on his cock, getting tighter as you descended and looser as you ascended. You would frequently peek up to watch the man's response, who would often be embarrassed to display his red face or even moan in ecstasy. You spit on the enlarged tip while looking down at it to spread more lubricant down the base. However, your tongue made contact with his throbbing head before you move your hands. Before proceeding to the shaft, your tongue gave his tip a thorough swirling motion to combine the moisture and provide more slickness.

You didn't get the chance to give your husband a blowjob very often, let alone a good one. All throughout, he was really thick. Your mouth would frequently grow tired and hurt, which left him feeling bad. An occasion like this was precious because König tended to skip the foreplay with him and dive right in with you. You were motivated to continue, not only by the confidence you had but also by the trembling sounds emanating from his mouth. He was so beautiful like this.

“Oh mein- agh~!”

Halfway down, you lowered your mouth and started to very softly suck him. You did the best you could while pumping what your mouth couldn't accommodate with your hands. He watched in fascination as you made every effort to keep yourself from gagging, often going down a little too far just to pleasure him. You did gag a few times, but you didn’t care much due to the way he moaned out when you pulled your head back up. Although, your sweet husband soon was caught off guard by the quickening of your speed. His legs squirmed a little at the friction, and his hips started to buck a little.

“AH~! W-ait s-slo-aah.. slow down!”

Within seconds, his cock jerked and twitched inside your mouth, and you moved your head to look at him while your hands worked it’s magic. Before König gripped the couch, your tongue made quick lines along the head, engaging in with the swelled tip. His muscles clenched and relaxed periodically as his breathing became noticeably heavier, the males chest visibly rose and fell.

“You look so pretty in red König. Do you want me to pleasure you some more~?”

“Bitte! B-Bitte…agh~ I c-an’t, it feels- so mmmmhn~! W-wait-”

You pushed yourself down a little more, and before he could object, he clapped his hand over his mouth. His legs began to quiver as a result of the vulgar noise of you choking on his cock, which rebounded throughout the entirety of the room. You lifted your head to get some air, but not long after, you shoved as much of his length as you possibly could down your throat again. The once-quiet air was now filled with the filthy, wet noises of you bobbing up and down on his cock. His sighs and grunts finally lost their ability to be contained and evolved into frantic pleas and cries of delight. The way your spouse began to crumble under your control was simply so sensual, and seeing him in this state made you feel unbelievably powerful.

You mouth had taken itself back with a small pop, backing away from him while once more sliding your hand along with such ease. You could tell he was ready to cum by the way his legs began to shake even more violently. “Are you gonna cum love?” His strangled moans only made you smile as your hands jerked the remainder of him. You put your lips on his tip and lightly sucked, which seemed to throw him far over the edge.

“Oh liebling..oh mein gott~ I’m gonna- I-I I-m gonna-“

König's head was thrown back on the couch, and you immediately looked up as soon as his eyes began to cross just slightly. As ribbons after ribbons of cum spurted out into your mouth, he began to moan out in ecstasy. You were forced to halt your movements when you heard his whining and heavy breathing, allowing him to achieve his orgasm before you removed your mouth from his cock. He watched as you swallowed all of his semen in one gulp, his head rising slightly with his heaving chest. Although a little salty, the flavor was not unpleasant.

After a few seconds of relief König sat up, his legs still shaking softly. “You did so good baby,” He spoke to you, putting his hand beneath your chin and lifting your head up slightly to look at him.

“Anything for my king,” You said with small smile.

“Well then let me return the favor, Meine Königin~.”

[sinsofbeauty]

Mine

Fandom: COD MWll

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem Sergeant! Reader

Requested: Nah :3

Warnings: FWB relationship, A little bit of Soft! Simon, Simon calling you “princess”, SMUTTYYY!!!, Very mimimal Dry Humping, Oral F! Receiving, Unprotected Sex!, Passionate, Rough?, Creampie

Overview: A friends with benefits relationship takes a turn, as Simon Riley starts to develop feelings for the young sergeant. He told himself he couldn’t let what they already had get the best of him, but he couldn’t resist.

A/n: A bit unedited guys, I’ll come back later to freshen it up but I was too eager to post this. Hope you all enjoy!

Y/n L/n, one of the Sergeants of Task Force 141. Unquestionably attractive, a true team player, and a certified badass on the battlefield. It was amazing how proficient she was with a rifle, and how beautiful she looked doing it. The woman was a crucial member of the squad, who excelled at stealth missions and was well recognized when it came to anything done undercover. She was someone who drew attention, particularly Simon Riley's.

The man was a brute, cold with pure fight to his masked beauty. Though when it came to her he didn’t know what the hell happened. His chest felt warm with comfort looking at her, regardless of whether she was seriously stern or joyfully smiling. He couldn’t help but stare. Sometimes he would stare too long, and when she would look at him he became tense with anxiety. Even though his eyes would show only blank emotion, he would casually look away moments after with his heart racing like a freight train.

He liked her, that much was clear. Simon wasn't sure how to feel about it even though it was evident she liked him back, from the way she flushed at his simple comments or occasionally flirted with him. Even after experiencing trauma, the sensation was unlike anything he had ever experienced. The sight of mere attraction made him feel…strange.

“Do you wanna try?”

Were the words you said that started all of this. The very words that made the man crack, his figure stiffening as hard as his cock that had already throbbed with excitement. Just looking at you made him grow a fucking tent, let alone horny. When you said this it was in reference to him kissing you after all the countless encounters of flirting back and forth even if it was minor. Long story short, that day he fucked your brains out, absolutely destroying your pretty pussy with all his throbbing cock could offer.

Since then, the both of you had been Friends with Benefits. Whenever there was an opportunity, he would fuck that pussy up like no tomorrow. He drowned in it, craved it, oh he absolutely loved it. Nothing that he had felt before and he knew you loved it too. A minor issue, though, had emerged recently. According to Simon's feelings, the relationship was beginning to develop into much more. He started to feel envious when you spent time with the boys and they were able to flirt with you without issue, because they were unaware of what you both have done. His frustration at not being able to have you all to himself led to frequent episodes of anger. Could he, though? You, all for him? Simply put, you were a friend, sergeant, simply a coworker. There was just no way in hell that he could have such intense feelings, as much as he tried not to. You wouldn't genuinely love him in such a way. That kind of love wouldn't be possible…would it?

—

“Ghost?” The man who had been changing in the center of the room had paused, staring at your half-naked figure as it lay on his bed, with hooded eyes. "You seem a bit...preoccupied," You said curiously.

And he was, in fact. He slowly removed his gear, barely giving you the slightest glance as he did so. He didn't feel the same way he had when you two originally started this some months ago; instead, he behaved very differently.

“It’s nothin’,” He had replied to you, unbuckling the belt to his pants to pull them down. “Just a little stress.”

“You sure?”

His medium blue jeans fell to the ground, revealing his strained erection that tightly pressed along his black boxers. He didn’t bother taking off his black long sleeve, nor did he remove his skull balaclava. “Why do you ask?”

He simply approached the bed, grabbed your legs, and dragged you over to the edge. He bent down and placed his hands on either side of your head as he fixed his gaze downward on your vulnerable body.

“You seem a little different today, that’s all.” You replied to him as he tilted his head to the side. “Plus, I thought you said last time would be the…well, last time.”

He stared at you with no change in emotion, but you could see his brows twitch a little. He said, "I know," as his forearms dropped to the bed. “You're just fucking irresistible.”

With your legs slightly dangling off the bed Ghost had spread them with his knees, putting himself in between you as his clothed cock touched your slick panties. You whimpered lowly as his face was close to yours, the man bucking his hips slowly. His dick made his way up and down your clothed cunt, his eyes closing, enjoying the moment.

“Can I try something?” He asked. You nodded your head as he opened his eyes, humming a yes as he did so. “You’ll have to close your eyes then, princess.”

Despite your bewilderment you complied. He lifted himself off the bed as you were closing your eyes, seizing the hem of your underwear and dragging it down your legs. He growls, and you hear the gentle thump on the floor. He then gently patted your outer thigh before grabbing it with one hand. From the angle you felt that from, he must’ve been crouched on the ground.

“You ready?” He asked, since you couldn’t see he probably didn’t want to startle you. Which was…quite considerate.

“Yes but-“

As soon as you said yes you felt his finger dive into your already wet pussy, but that is not what made you tense up. For the first time you had felt his tongue planted flat on your sweet bud. He had taken the balaclava off, at least the bottom portion. Pushing his fingers between your sensitive flesh he fucked you, pressing against the spongey region of your delicate insides almost immediately. He traced his tongue over your clit, flicking lightly in a perfect rhythm.

“Aaah~!”

His tongue moved up and down on the dripping slit of your genitalia. God damn did he know what he was doing, and you writhed with delight as your hands captured the covers. Your inner walls spasm, making Ghost take you into his mouth while your legs began to shake. He keeps going, sucking, tasting, and savoring after each stroke. He pulls his fingers out from you when you begin to pull away, grabbing onto your thighs and pulling you back to him.

“Where are you going?” Ghost’s amused huff is heard before he goes back to eating your pussy like a french dessert.

You couldn’t help but fist the sheets with your sweaty palms, a feeling building up inside of you. Your toes curled, eyes still clenched shut as your back began to arch just barely. You couldn’t believe that you were already so close to orgasm. This man was gonna make you cum in less than five minutes! Your breathing becomes labored as you grind against him, bringing you closer to release. His tongue then descended into the folds of your pussy making you purr with satisfaction. Through the darkness of your eyelids you began to see stars, feeling his thumb fondle with your oh so sensitive clit.

It threw you over the edge. Your body convulses as cries of pleasure echo through the room. Falling apart beneath him your back arches high, thighs colliding with his head as you squeezed tightly.

“F-Fuck Ghost-“ You sharply exhale.

He continues to play with your clit until you’re practically crushing his head with your thighs, and releases you completely afterwards. With a loud sigh and the rise of your chest, your legs had spread apart, and you put a hand over your face. God…no one has ever made you feel that good.

“You called baby?” You heard his voice for only just a second, until you felt his lips press gently on the skin of your inner thigh. “Keep those eyes closed.” Another shift made you realize that he had moved again, your eyes obeying him and not opening. The heat on your face told you that he had kept the bottom part of his balaclava off, as it still exposed his face.

“Coming so fast for me. I love that.” His voice was taunting, deep and oh so sexy.

“Shut up.” You giggled softly. “When can I open my eyes?”

“When I say so,” Ghost commented. “Do you wanna try?”

“Try what?”

His lips brushed against yours, making your heart almost stop. “That.”

“Yes…” You immediately responded. It made you whimper, simply because those lips were literally right there.

That time you guys kissed, had been the only time. You didn’t know why, but now that the opportunity presented itself once more, hell yeah you were going for it. Without another moment to waste, you felt his lips on yours. He took a hand up to your chest and groped your breast, grazing his thumb over your puckered nipple. Your head becomes light as he kisses you tenderly, the slight turn of his head deepening it. You could taste what Ghost had been devouring, your juices mixed with his own distinctive taste. Fuck it was good. His lips danced onto yours with ease, soon turning into a slow, passionate kiss. Your hands had made their way up to the man’s face, grabbing the sides that were still covered by his balaclava with part of his stubble jaw. His cock, felt against your slit rubbed its rosy head up and down as you both fondly enjoyed each other.

Ghost had pulled back, you letting go of his face before he stood to his tall form. “You can open your eyes now.”

When he did, his balaclava was covering his face again.

“You’re such a dick.”

“I know, but you love it.”

Your face changed immediately, subconsciously looking at him with eyes that only could express love. Maybe you did, who knows. His erection pressed against his defined abs when he lifted the front of his shirt up, letting his body get some cool air before the fun. “Gorgeous, don’t look at me like that.” His voice was playful, making you snap out of your trance and smile at him with a giggle. “Making me melt over here, dripping like a faucet.”

“You’re telling me,” You playfully shake your legs. “She’s waiting for you.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhmmm~.”

“You’re such a tease.” Ghost softly put his fingers around your hips.

“Speak for yourself.”

“Hm? I didn’t hear that.” His head tilted to the side.

“Fuck you Ghost.” You shook your head looking away from him, a blush appearing on your face.

“I’m trying,” With that he positioned himself and sunk his dick into you. You moaned deeply as he went in slow, your eyes going back to his as he stared deep into your soul. His cock was so perfect, every inch of your pussy was filled to the hilt, no space left untouched.

“F-Fucking…hell…” You mutter, your fingers taking some locks of your hair.

“You good?”

“Yeah…it’s been a little while. You’re just so big Ghost.”

“And you’re so tight love,” He groaned, taking his hands off of you. “You’re lucky no ones here to listen to your pretty voice.” Ghost had rolled up the sleeves to his shirt before momentarily taking your hips again, making you flinch in pleasure as his cock moved slightly inside of you. “You drive me wild, you know that?”

“Maybe,” You smiled, feeling Ghost pull out before thrusting back in steadily. “Fuuuck Ghost…you fill me up so well.” You breath out, making him nod his head slightly to the side.

“Damn right,” He huffed, cock twitching inside you. Ghost began moving his hips in a consistent pace, thrusting his cock into you. He loved watching your face change, twisting with pleasure as he fucked you slowly. Though it was too slow, and he knew that. “Tell me how you want it baby.”

You stared into his piercing blue eyes, your own squinting up at him. “H-Harder.”

“Harder?”

You nodded your head, mumbling a yes under your breath. “Like how you usually do it. But…n-not as fast.”

He hummed, readjusting his fingers on your hips to a more comfortable position. Ghost then looks down, pulling out his cock to the head before thrusting his hips back into you harshly. Not something wind knocking or ruthless, but just enough to make your cunt spasm around him tightly. He took note of this, going in a little deeper to hit your G-Spot and oh did that drive you fucking insane.

With his slow pace but deadly hard thrusts into your tight hole, your mouth couldn’t contain the forced moans and shouts that escaped. The pleasure was pure, eye rolling, and did he do it just right. Your core tightens and grips at his dick while he makes your body jolt back from the hard force.

“Like this?”

He was doing it just right, but unfortunately it wasn’t as much as you wanted. You craved him much more than you had thought. “Faster~.”

Ghost cocked his head to the side, a small growl vibrating the pit of his throat. Plunging himself deeper, faster inside of you, made his head fall back in pure ecstasy. The sound of skin smacking as he quickens his pace fills the room, your back arching as he hits the deepest parts of your core. He knew what you wanted, and without another word he began pounding into you relentlessly.

You eagerly beg, desperate to feel him, “Aaaah~! Yes- Fuck! More, more Ghost..y-you make me feel..mmhn~.”

“S-Shit…” Ghost stuttered, slamming into your cunt with urgency.

You cried out to him, legs beginning to shake when he bent down. His body was planted on yours, your legs subconsciously locking around his waist. Ghost fucked you mercilessly, his eyes locked on you with no emotion. Gasping for air, your nails dug into his back that was still clothed from his long sleeve. Beads of sweat dripped down the mans neck, and you could feel the dampness of his shirt as you clawed at his back. You could just imagine how hot he would be under the balaclava. You could hear him panting behind the mask as your orgasm rapidly built.

“Just like that baby. You feel so good around me..”

You could feel his cock twitch inside you, but your mind was too fogged up from the stimulation to notice completely. “You fuck me sooo good” You could tell his thrusts had gotten weaker, but the pace was still the same. “Don’t stop,” You urge, still sensitive from your last orgasm.

Ghost had took your hands into his, eloping his fingers with yours. Your arms were above your head, pinned while his eyes just couldn’t look away. “Fuckin’ hell love.” he groans, sinking into you over and over. Momentarily he slows to adjust himself, before aiming right in the special spot of your core.

You gasp, immediately shutting your eyes as a shout escapes you, not long after a scream of pure ecstasy. “Yes” You encourage. “Right there!” The bed rocked back and forth at this point, hitting the wall over and over.

“So,” Thrust. “Fucking,” Thrust. “Beautiful.”

Climax rips through your body without warning, consuming you, Ghost fucking you through a wave of everlasting euphoria. With one last thrust Ghost had buried his cock deep inside of your, eyes closing shut as ribbons of cum spurt inside your pussy. You gasped at this, his pulsating cock harshly throbbing as you milked him dry, white coating your inner walls. His face buried in the crook of your neck scrunched with pleasure, body twitching. He panted hard, slumping into you as his hands held your own tightly. Your own chest rose and fell heavily, your hazy eyes looking up at the ceiling as the stars faded away.

“I…I-I’m sorry…” Your eyes looked down at the man who’s head was on your chest. “I forgot…I wasn’t wearing protection.”

He lifted his head up, his baby blue eyes staring into yours. His body was next, taking all of his weight off of you. In that moment he had slipped his cock out, his groan low while he watched his cum drip from your slick cunt. He looks down at you, sweaty and adoring your weak body on the bed.

You thought he was so adorable, you couldn’t help but lay there so he could get a good view. Feelings began to worsen, that heart in your chest racing. He was so lovely. “It’s okay,” You replied with a weak smile. “I’m on birth control.”

“Luckily,” Ghost turned, going to the small dresser he had in the corner of his room. There already prepared laid a towel, in which he picked up and came back to you with. It made you tilt your head at him, but as soon as you were going to get up he stopped you. Ghost had cleaned you up nicely afterwards.

—

“Ghost,” You said, dressed as you came back from the bathroom. He was sitting on the bed at this point, tying the strings to his sweatpants. “Is this the last time?”

For the first time you saw something spark in his eyes when he looked up at you. It made him look away from you as if he noticed himself, his leg beginning to bounce up and down nervously. “Do you want it to be?”

“No,” You reached out to him, taking the sides of his face between your hands. His eyes closed, taking in the warmth of your palms that were planted softly on his face. “Do you?”

“No love.” His response was in a harsh whisper, eyes fluttering open, bringing him back to you. His gorgeous blues took you like an ocean, blinking in perfection at your own beautiful irises.

“I want you to be mine, and only mine.”

[sinsofbeauty]

A Midnight Encounter

Fandom: COD MWll

Pairings: Jealous! Simon “Ghost” Riley x Fem! Reader

Requested: Nope :3

Warnings: Jealousy, Soap giving you nicknames, Mild possession, SMUTTY SMUT SMUT, Dom! Ghost, fingering, orgasm denial, overstimulation, squirting, choking/breath play, spanking, daddy kink, degradation

Overview: A brief encounter with your superior Soap gets Ghost on edge. Couple of drinks down the hatch and a late night after a mission, turns into something much more heated than your intentions.

A large party blooming with life, and a night that would be one to remember. Undercover, you and Soap had been infiltrating a large mansion for some intel on a lead. The both of you had to pose as a couple, not exactly husband and wife but something “long term.” It was a masquerade party, so faces were hard to see under the masks that covers half of peoples faces. So you and Soap had sat at a round table, across from each other that way eyes were also behind.

“Ghost, what’s your status?”

You and Soap exchanged a quick glance after Price spoke on the comms. It was now all about timing and patience as the first phase will proceed.

“Gettin’ there,” Replied the Lieutenant, who’s checkpoint was to make it on the roof. “No hostiles on the rooftops, closing into position.”

The glass dome over the ballroom had lights around the rim and provided a glimpse of the night sky. With all the commotion, no one would have anticipated someone being up there, but of course you and Soap knew.

“I’m in position, over.”

Looking up, you notice the glare of Ghost's silenced firearm. The ceiling in this area of the structure was quite high, making a sniper with an excellent view likely. You turn to face Soap, who was chatting with you and seems to be having fun as you scouted the area. Price and Daz were sneaking inside the building as this was going on.

“Fox, there’s a door south east to your location.” You heard Ghost speak through your comms. “I can’t get a visual, do you see anything?”

Your eyes transitioned to look at the door, in which had just opened. “Copy Ghost. It just opened.”

“What is there?”

You observed three men leave, two of whom were real close to the third. Those who had encountered the one in the middle, were greeted and left shortly after. It didn't take you long to realize that he was the mansion's owner. Not as quickly, but at a steady enough pace to make your heart race, the man began to walk over to where you and Soap had been sitting.

“Three men in total, one is probably the party host. Seems to have a lot of friendly gestures from guests.” You replied, keeping your eyes on Soap. “The other two are probably guards, they look too alert to be friends or close company.”

“Copy that.”

Upon taking a deep breath, Soap looked back at you after casting a quick glance over his shoulder. Phase two had begun, and the man in front of you had quickly stood up and left without saying anything else. There you were left alone, with Ghost watching as the man of the house approached your table. You had a drink in hand at this point, lifting it to your lips as the three men had came to your table. They all were tall, staring down at you while you set your drink back down on the elegant cloth of the table.

“Good evening. It is my pleasure to welcome you, even though it’s well into the party.”

You gave a genuine smile nodding your head in appreciation. “Of course, it is my pleasure to attend such an extravagant event.”

The man smiled, raising a hand to shoo off the men who had stood closely behind him. With that, the owner of the mansion had taken a seat in the spot Soap had been sitting across from you. Now, it’s showtime.

“Target right on queue,” You heard Ghost speak quietly in your ear.

“Rog. Soap what’s your status.” Price then speaks.

“Oscar mike. The halls are quiet, no sign of hostile activity.”

As you struck up a discussion with the man, you positioned your arms beneath the table. You kept the target distracted so that the men in your ear could continue discussing the objective. Though the longer you stayed, the harder it became, anxiety in the pit of your stomach turning into discomfort. Your face was trying to hide the uncomfortable sensation you were stifling within, while your hands were fidgeting under the table.

“Found something,” Soap was heard on the mic.

Oh thank god.

“A file and a usb. Talks about everything we’re looking for. There’s also a map to what looks like a part of Southeast Asia.”

“Rog on that. Execute phase three, we’re getting the hell outta ‘ere.”

Perfect. As soon as the man in front of you laughed—not at what he said, but at what you had just heard—you started to smile widely. In an effort to attract his attention, you laid the drink that you had just finished sipping on the table.

“I apologize for interrupting, but I must go the bathroom. Would you kindly inform me where it is?” You smiled innocently at the ignorant man who had only given you a lusty glance in response to your politeness.

“Why of course, it’ll be down over there by that entryway. Immediately take a left and you shall see.” The man leaned in and set a hand on yours, lifting it into his before planting a firm kiss on our knuckles. “Please do return, I absolutely love your company my dear.”

“Of course, I won’t take long.” You said with a wink.

He let go of your hand out of amusement and allowed you to stand up. You had moved carefully past other guests while saying excuse me, walking in the direction he had instructed you to go. Finally, you reached the entryway and turned left.

“Ghost, Fox, we got the intel. All we need is you two out of there, copy?”

“Roger. Oscar mike and out in five.” Ghost spoke.

Shortly after taking your heels in hand and moving quickly down the corridor, you adjusted your earpiece and pulled your hair back into a ponytail. It was pitch black, with hardly any lights, dull, and somewhat difficult to see. But it didn't stop there; noise down the hallway forced you to pause, and you eventually found your way into what appeared to be a dining hall.

“Fox? Do you copy?”

Once more, Price's voice echoed in your ear. As you attempted to hold your breath due to your heavy breathing, you could feel your heart beating rapidly. The voices approached the door before stopping, speaking in a language you couldn't comprehend. It was unfamiliar, like something Arabic or a comparable dialect. It was difficult to determine if they were guards or other guests from the party.

“Fox?”

Your ears were straining to focus on the language being spoken from behind the door when you faintly heard the Captain's voice again. They then shifted to using English at that point. You became aware that you had been gone for a while when they radioed about a girl who matched your identical description. Both the party host and the security were looking for you.

“Fox talk to us.”

Your attention was drawn to the comms again, hearing Soap when he called you. The people behind the door jogged off making you take a deep breath. “I copy,” You sigh with relief into the comms. “I ran into a couple of guards, had to hide for a bit.”

“Had me worried there baby girl.” Soap chuckled into the mic making you snort with a head shake.

“I can clearly take care of myself.” You replied, looking out the door to see if the coast was clear. “I’m right near the exit, better have those vehicles ready.”

“Just waiting for you doll.”

“Enough with the flirting you two.” Price scolded in your ear. “Just get your ass outside Fox.”

“Copy,” You couldn’t help but cackle at the nicknames as you finally made it through.

You took a moment to locate the spot where you and Ghost would meet as you snuck through the grass next to the structure. Price would have joined Gaz by this point, and Soap would be going towards the other car. That moment did eventually arrive, and you met Ghost at the predetermined location.

“We have a change of plans,” Price called out through the comms. “There were too many guards in the area for Soap to make it to Bravo’s vehicle. He’s coming with us, copy?”

“Roger that sir,” Ghost took one fine look at you and huffed, taking one final survey through the night vision goggles.

Both of you made your way to the vehicle, in which you both hopped in as soon as you saw it. Ghost in the driver’s seat, while you in the passengers. The vehicle vroomed with life before the masked male driven off, making it on the dirt road that lead to the exit of the mansions perimeters. Once off, you had clasped your hands together with glee. Your first undercover mission that didn’t involve shooting people, what a success!

“Oh that was amazing! Never had so much fun being fake.” You giggled out, causing Ghost to grunt at your comment. “I’m glad I didn’t get caught. That would’ve been a disaster in itself. Though, the people I was hiding from spoke another language. I think Arabic? Something of the sort.”

When there was silence, you turned to face Ghost, who had his hand firmly on the wheel and was glaring at the road. Although you couldn't see his face, the silence and the growing tension within the car left you puzzled.

“Is something wrong?”

Before he could answer he swerved on the side of the road, making you jolt in your seat as the car had vigorously jerked into a bunch of uneven grass behind a couple of trees and rocks. You looked at him in shock as he parked the car, turning off the engine and even the lights for concealment.

“What the hell is wrong with you?!” You exclaimed adjusting yourself back in your seat correctly.

Ghost had looked over, his eyes staring at you with a deep glare. It was intense, cold, and made you freeze in place as you stared at him innocently. The way that his eyes looked so menacing, deadly, made you heat up in more places than just your cheeks.

“Get out of the fuckin’ car.”

“What?”

There was silence in the air, before you watched as he opened the door and got out. He was dead serious about this one. You got out yourself, not minding that your bare feet were on the grass let alone the stockings that matched your skin tone. The sound of Ghost slamming his door made you jump, and watch him walk around the head of the car. With that, you closed your door, but by the time you turned around he was right in front of you.

“Baby girl? Doll?” His voice rang deep within the quiet atmosphere of nature.

Oh…shit. That’s what he was upset about. Let’s just say, you and Ghost have more of a Lieutenant/Sergeant relationship outside of what people see in uniform. It’s been going on for a short time, but still. Simon was very protective of what was his.

“He’s called me that before.” You replied shaking your head. “It’s nothing serious and you know that.”

“I still don’t fucking like it,” He snarled, making your heart practically leap out of your chest. He was dangerously close to you, his mask practically inches from your face. “And on top of that, that man at the party. Putting his fuckin’ hands on you.”

“I had to play my part Simon,” You looked away from him. “Jeez if I knew you would be this jealous-“

You were cut off by a gloved hand taking your chin, yanking it back to look at him. The heat between your legs had been shown in an instant, your thighs pressing together as you whimpered helplessly under the taller man.

“Jealous, is an understatement.” Ghost growled. His eyes looked fiercely down at you, half lidded and hungry for more than what you expected.

“G-Ghost,” You stutter, arousal forming under a nervous expression. “We’re still on a mission, shouldn’t we get back to base?”

The eerie silence of the night crept over, until Ghost took his other hand to his radio. “Captain, we’ve run into a little problem.”

It took a few moments for a response. “What’s your status Lieutenant?”

“There are guards along the border. I don’t see an exit without being seen.” The silence took over, making your raise your brows at what Simon was trying to do.

“Copy that. Stay low until an entry point is sealed. We’ll keep a lookout for any signs of activity.”

“Copy, over and out.”

His eyes, which were malicious and filled with significantly more than what you had previously seen, peered at you from the radio. Ghost had slid his hand that was on your chin over your neck, taking it with a firm squeeze. You gasped only slightly when he used his body to pin you against the car door.

“You wanna be sly, little fox?” His voice was purely filled with his British accent, making you shiver and put your hands on his wrist. In that moment, you had realized why he had lied to Price on the radio. He was buying time.

“Turn around.”

That was a voice you heard many times before. It was the part of Ghost only you have seen out of the members of Task 141. The one that would either fuck you into oblivion, or make you cream so much that not even god could stifle your pitiful screams.

Without a word you turned around, the back of your tightly fitted dress giving Ghost a perfect view of your ass. He grunted, and a heavy slap was planted on your right cheek. You gasped out since it was so unexpected, abdomen clenching tight as his gloved hand let another rip at your other cheek.

“Lemme tell you something sweet girl,” Ghost spoke out of pure lust and sexual tension. “This ass, belongs to me.”

Another hit to your cheek made you grit your teeth, and with another he slapped considerably harder. Tears began to brim at the corner of your eyes, and when he had abused your ass for the last time you couldn’t help but moan out.

He noticed this, a hum making him bend down with his masked mouth next to your ear. “Enjoying yourself, baby girl?”

You didn’t respond, instead you squeezed your eyes shut on how he mocked Soap’s words. Fuck was he good. In an instant you felt the back of your short dress being lifted up, the cold air of your red ass being exposed to the night.

“No panties,” Ghost stated from behind you, as you felt fingers on your stockings. A quiet rip was heard, letting you know that he tore that shit with one easy grip of his hands. “We’re you expecting to get fucked tonight Princess?”

You let out a shakey “no”, but Ghost didn’t believe that. After a night looking like this, so vulnerable, so fucking sexy, damn that was his plan. But of course, he had something else in mind.

“Don’t lie to me,” He said, taking a moment to remove his gloves off of his hands. He tossed them to the ground and moved one of his hands to the front of your dress, cupping your breast.

“I-I’m not lying.” You spoke, opening your eyes at his motion. “I was just..dressing up for the occasion.”

When you felt two fingers on your slicked pussy lips, your breath caught, and your reaction alone caused him to groan. You couldn't hide the fact that you were a mess, due to how wet you were between those adorable thighs of yours.

“Look at how wet you are. Just for me, and only me. Isn’t that right, doll?”

Arousal was clearly visible as skin became flushed, thighs beautifully moist, and your nipples puckered into hard buds. It was hard to swallow, let alone breath without it being filled with lust. In spite of your best efforts to balance yourself on the car with your hands, you eventually lost and melted under Ghost's control. When his fingers made their way to your clit, you exhaled loudly and whimpered as he rubbed in slow, agonizing circles. You moaned, not satisfied with the speed at hand. You wanted more, fuck.

“I can’t quite hear you. Is my little slut wet for daddy~?”

“Fuck Ghost!” You groaned out, head hitting the glass of the passenger window. “Y-Yes, I’m so wet for you…”

Without warning he dips his two fingers in your throbbing cunt, making you almost scream out with pleasure. You tighten around him almost immediately, making him groan sharply while he abuses your sweet sex over and over. He knew the right places, curling his fingers, making you tremble.

“Such a tight little cunt baby.” He purrs, the speed of his fingers fucking you in an unrelenting pace. “Just seeing you in this dress makes my cock ache. I couldn’t help thinking about fucking you while I watched from the roof.”

His hand that had been massaging your breasts came up to your neck, taking it with a strong hold. Your airways had been blocked, making it hard to focus while his fingers pumped inside you. As soon as you felt lightheaded, he slowed his pace before releasing his grip, allowing you to breath for the time being. Taking himself out from your tight hole, he used his two fingers covered from wet juices of your cunt to spread your folds open.

“You look so fucking cute,” He breaths, not being able to help his own heavy, staggered breaths. “I could just fuck you right here.”

Before you could say a word, his fingers sunk back into you. You jolted with pleasure, stomach tightening, thrust after thrust of his fingers repeatedly flicking up at your special spot. You moaned out, whined, and writhed beneath his body, the pleasure making your legs wobble numb. Your climax was close to bursting, Ghost taking your neck once more and cutting of your air supply.

“Fuck baby,” Ghost grunts out. “You’re clenching hard on my fingers, gonna cum already?”

As you closed your eyes you let out a choked groan, feeling yourself on the brink of pure bliss. Although you wished it was his huge cock sensuously rubbing your walls, he was using his fingers quite well. Ghost quickly withdrew himself from your cunt, releasing his hold on your neck which caused you to take a deep breath. Your clit was yearning for attention, and you were twitching in desperation. He pulled your head up to gaze at him just as you were about to approach orgasm, causing your back to arch away from his body.

“Don’t you fucking come.” He commanded.

“B-But I-Im-“

“Don’t you fucking dare.” He grabbed your hands from being able to touch yourself.

Your eyes were squeezed shut, holding back your orgasm as you were told. For fuck sake, why did he stop?! It was so fucking good “Please,” You beg, shaking your hips in desperation. “Please, please fuck me please!”

Ghost gave you a firm slap to your ass, making you flinch with a whine. “This is your punishment for flirting like a little whore.”

“But I wasn’t-“

SLAP!

You moaned out, legs about ready to give out under you. “Fuuuck~!”

“Has anyone been able to pleasure you like this?”

Your eyes stay closed, not being able to look at him. “N-No.”

“No what?”

You felt his finger back at your slit, massaging and running up and down your creamy hole with ease. Your breath halted, swallowing hard at the feeling. “No, sir. Only you.”

“That’s right princess,” He spoke deeply, making sure your clit got some attention. “Open your fucking eyes.”

You do as your told, opening them as you stared right into his. His fingers plunged into your pussy again, a moan escaping the pit of your throat.

“You wanna come?”

“Yes sir.” You say weakly.

His fingers pump into you, slow and steady as your tight cunt clenched around him once more. You couldn’t help but close your eyes, but as soon as you did he stopped. “Keep your fucking eyes on me.”

Your eyes shot open, and his lowered into a glare. His fingers began to fuck you again, only this time at the pace he was doing before. You yelped out, unable to control your helpless cries as his fingers made your abdomen clench for release.

“Does my dirty little slut wanna come for me? Does she wanna fucking come all over daddy’s fingers?”

“Yes! Yes please!!”

“What do you say doll?”

“Please Ghost! Pleasepleaseplease I wanna come so bad!!!” You pleaded, your climax reaching faster than it did before. “Ahh~ Simon, I wanna-“

“Fucking come for me baby~.”

With that, you climax consumes you. Your inner walls spasm, making Ghost grunt out and grab your hip with his free hand. He continues to fuck you through your orgasm, fingers curling harshly into your tight walls as you scream out in ecstasy. Your legs shake finding yourself being overstimulated to the brink of coming again.

“Si- mon- fuck!- aha mmhn~!!”

The squelching of his thick fingers in your pussy was soon interrupted by the sound of liquid gushing out. Onto the floor, on your stockings, on his pants it went, squirting until Ghost stopped, pulling his fingers out and rubbing your slit gently.

“Good fucking girl.”

You panted, letting your head fall and your body hunch into a weak position against the car. Ghost removed his hand from your pussy and held onto you, seeing that you practically had no balance left over. Your stockings had been soaked on the inside, from your slick cunt to your thighs. Ghost pulled your dress down and pulled you away from the door, opening it and picking you up to set you inside.

“I can handle myself.” You said because of his actions.

“I know, you handled me pretty well Princess.”

You puckered your lips as he set you down in your seat, closing the door and walking back to the other side. He hopped in as if nothing happened, turning on his radio.

“Captain, do you copy?”

A couple moment of silence later and Price responded, “Affirmative. Any changes?”

“Oscar Mike and off the radar, we should be home soon.

Ghost turned off his radio, turning on the car and soon driving away back on the road. One hand stayed on the wheel, the other, which was the one he mercilessly fucked you with stayed on his crotch. Man did you wish he railed you, made you fucking come undone over and over again like last time. You looked at him, head titling to the side in a tired stare.

“If I knew you would be like that over a couple of nicknames…I would have let it slide a lot sooner.”

“Fuckin’ hell.” Ghost huffed, simply out of amusement. “You really wanna piss me off don’t you?”

“Why not? You fuck me anyways.”

“I won’t be nice the next time it happens. You can trust me on that love.”

[sinsofbeauty]

THIS POST IS CURRENTLY CLOSED! TBD WHEN IT WILL REOPEN

Hi guys! My name is Sinny and I’ve recently been looking for some new roleplay partners! I’m fairly new to the tumblr rp community, but I’ve been within different platforms rping for about 5+ years. I do MxM and MxF roleplays, either CanonxCanon or CanonxOC.

Currently I’m looking for some BNHA/MHA, Scream, Loki/Avengers, Apex Legends, Avatar 2009/TWOW or L4D2 roleplayers, so please disregard this post if you aren’t interested!

Hopefully I will find some new friends to start again within Tumblr, but I do have a few rules in play:

- I won’t roleplay with anyone under the age of 18. Roleplaying with minors makes me a bit uncomfortable especially because I’m 19 myself, especially with questionable topics I have been asked to roleplay in the past

- With that being said, underage characters must be aged up to 18+ if it is NSFW related of ANY kind. Whether it is smut or any scenario of the sort

- MUST be a literate roleplayer. While you don’t have to match up with what I write, I at least would like a decent paragraph. I will not rp with people who do one liners, absolutely not. And if you do rp with me, I ask you please keep it descriptive enough to keep the scenario going

- I do allow OC’s but absolutely NO OP ones. Self explanatory.

- And last but not least respond times. If you are going to be away for more than two days please let me know, and don’t leave me hanging. I will let you know the same if I will not be responding for a little bit

Other than those I am pretty much open for anything. Shoot your shot and I’ll be down to do a scenario! I’m pretty good when it comes to roleplaying the characters but if I haven’t before I will definitely try. AU’s are acceptable! Pretty much committed to a various amount of them!

Feel free to leave a message for me and I’ll respond as soon as I can! I am more than welcome to give you my discord if you prefer to roleplay there as well!

[sinsofbeauty]

Hii! Could I request an revenant one-shot where female!reader (or gender neutral!) has a crush on them and gets jealous when someone else flirts/ or praises his skills? I would love to see how the killer robot would act in this situation (taking in account revenant also feels something)

Jealousy is a bitch

Fandom: Apex Legends

Pairing: Revenant x Fem! Reader

Requested: Yes XD

Warnings: Jealousy, Profanity

Overview: Within the request

A/n: Thank you so much for requesting! I hope you and everyone enjoys! Feel free to send in more :D

Today’s match was somewhat decent, not the most exciting you would have expected. Stormpoint was a really big arena, and unlike the others, if you don’t land hot it could take a while for you to find another squad. The most you and your teammate Bloodhound had done was take out Gibby and Octane, as well as kill a few prowlers along the way. You both made it to the top three, but didn’t win since you were both cursed with purple evo shields. Though you weren’t that happy about not winning, you didn’t complain due to coming in at #3. The squad who did win though, was Mad Maggie and that simulacrum Revenant.

“The fight vas plentiful vhile it lasted.” Bloodhound spoke as you both walked in the dropship. “Though I am not ready for the interviews.”

You weren’t a big fan of interviews either, and you agreed with Hound on that part. There were always annoying reporters and writers asking about the match when it was visible to the public eye to see, and stupid questions that make your brain melt. But of course it was part of being a legend. Your nose scrunched, but Bloodhound patted your shoulder in reassurance.

“Don’t vorry you’ll do great. I need to go vind Valter Fitzroy, but I will find you bevore we go inside.”

You nodded, and Bloodhound left swiftly. It seemed like it was something urgent, though you knew they would take care of it. You then heard Maggie’s voice around the corner just as you leaned your back against a wall, ears perking up at the mention of your so called ‘crush’. At this point, you didn’t bother pushing yourself off the wall and walking away. No, you wanted to hear what the simulacrum had to say.

“For a simulacrum, you ain’t half bad.”

“Is that a compliment, or are you just trying to get along?“ The voice of the red bot was slick with mischief as always, nothing too out of the ordinary.

“I ain’t that nice. You’re gonna need a lot more than that to befriend Mad Maggie.” She responded.

The conversation went on about the match, them going back and forth on how good they did. Compliments were thrown out to each other like bullets, and it had you a little on edge. You could feel your face heat up and your chest tighten with jealousy, but you continued to listen in on their conversation.

“You still owe me for saving your ass out there skinsuit. Don’t think I didn’t forget.”

“Ha! There’d be a bullet in your head before I owe you squat, sim.”

“I’ll take that as a challenge, but it’ll take a lot to beat something like me~.”

You didn’t notice Maggie had walked away, since you were standing there with your arms crossed all irritated. It wasn’t long before you huffed, the frustration clearly escaping from your slightly flared nostrils. The dropship had just landed, it’s insides shaking and buzzing down as it made contact with the ground. It wasn’t long after, that the door whirred open, and legends began strolling out. You could feel like your face was heated, but didn’t bother to make any note of it due to the fact that no one seemed to point it out. Interviews were just a few buildings away as the legends walked and prepared themselves to be presented in front of reporters as well as flashing lights of cameras. You were about to make your way out of the dropship, though you were stopped and pulled to the side by slender mechanical fingers.

“Why such a down face? Red with what, jealousy~?”

Your eyes widened with slight shock, though it made your face glow more red with embarrassment. “How did you know I was listening?” You asked with a small mumble.

“It isn’t hard to hear you with those snorts and angry growls of yours,” Revenant responded with an amused huff. “Even though she didn’t hear them, you gotta remember, I’m not a skin suit like you.”

You still didn’t bother looking at him, your eyes stayed on the ground. Revenant, even though he turned you to face him, still waited for you to say something. When you didn’t he chuckled, and not long after grabbed your jaw.

“I didn’t hear yes or a no. So I’m gonna make a wild guess,” The simulacrum squeeze your cheeks and made you look at him. “You’re jealous of a big bad wolf like me getting praised by someone other than you.”

“No I’m not! I mean..so what if I am? It’s not like you didn’t reject them you ass-“

You were cut off by his fingers tightening, and him taunting you with an “ah ah ah.” As awful as he could be, you still somehow succumbed under his grasp. It made you whine, and not only that but it had you listen without any thoughts bothering you. Damn this bastard.

“If I was still a skin suit I would kiss you instead of this to shut you up.” He said deeply. “Are you still jealous little girl? Because you’re the only one I’m willing to still live for. Remember?”

You shook your head knowing immediately, and he let go of your jaw that he had his firm grip on. You rubbed it slightly, but it didn’t bother you. You were flustered from his comment. Not only that but he has never admitted something like this to you before. Yeah, maybe he glossed over it one or two times, but it was nothing serious.

“Now hurry up. I don’t need anybody eavesdropping on our conversation.”

Revenant had walked past you with a small glance, but you followed behind. You grumbled to yourself because in the end, Revenant was probably right. The two of you already know that both exchange the same feelings for each other. Although, you knew for a damn fact that he probably loved to see you riled up. If he heard you then he definitely kept fueling the fire just to see yo ur reaction. What a bitch. It wasn’t long before you both caught up with the others. You immediately walked across the room to Loba and Kairi, who were waving you over.

“There you are beautiful. What took you so long?” Loba asked with a bit of curiosity.

You blinked a couple of times but responded with, “Revenant just wanted to gloat to me about the match, nothing too serious.”

“Ugh you’re better with keeping the demonios name out of your mouth, he has no business dealing with a wonderful woman like you.”

Kairi giggled when she heard Loba talking to you, coming up from behind you and wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Hey don’t use up all your compliments, you won’t have any more left to give~.” Well that comment was directed towards Loba, she then turned to you and said, “We’re going out to drinks tonight if you wanna join us. Wouldn’t mind having a third person on board.”

You thought about it and didn’t think that there would be a problem since you didn’t have any plans later that day. “I’ll consider it. I don’t have any plans at the moment but you never know, something might come up.” You responded to her with a smile.

“Cool. Hope to see you there princess.”

“Princess?” Loba said with the raise of her brow and a smirk on her face. Kairi smiled wide at that, and smoothly made her way off of you and towards Loba, who had slowly been pulled away by a couple if fans and reporters.

You shrugged your shoulders and turned around, only to be face-to-face with cold metal and a deadly stare. You froze, looking up at the murder bot who seem to be glaring at you from above. “What?” You asked.

“So it’s a game you’re playing?” He said tilting his head to the side.

“What game?” You asked confused, but soon came to realize what he meant.

“Playing stupid huh? Fine, but don’t think you’re going with them tonight. You’re going to have a tough time with me, Princess~.”