sinkovia - Tumblr blog

sinkovia · 29 days

Text

Silence

Kyle Garrick x Fem!Reader

Angst, violence, blood, mention of death.

Masterlist

For weeks, he had been planning to propose, to ask you to spend the rest of your lives together in love and happiness. He had envisioned the moment countless times in his mind, rehearsing the words he would say and imagining the joy on your face when you said yes.

But fate had other plans, cruel and unforgiving. On what was supposed to be a routine mission, Kyle and you found yourselves captured by the enemy. Bound and helpless, you both were subjected to interrogation, the enemy demanding information that could jeopardize the entire team.

In the danger surrounding the both of you, the thought of the proposal lingered in Kyle's mind. He couldn't help but wonder if he would ever get the chance to ask you to marry him, to express his love and commitment in the way he had always dreamed.

As he felt the weight of the small box in his pocket, Kyle prayed silently for a miracle, for a chance to make his proposal a reality and to begin building the future he had envisioned with you.

They observed the way you and Kyle gazed at each other, bound in chairs mere feet apart, the silent communication of love and desperation passing between you. It was a connection they sought to exploit.

A vulnerability.

With brass knuckles clenched in their fists, they loomed over Kyle, their intentions clear in their presence. One of them approached you, his voice laced with malice "Answer our questions, and we won't hurt him," You could only nod in response, your heart heavy with the knowledge that any refusal would only result in pain for Kyle.

Despite the agony of betrayal that gnawed at your conscience, you answered every question they posed without hesitation. Laswell and Nikolai's names spilled from your lips, your loyalty to Kyle outweighed only by your determination to protect him from harm. It was a choice made in an instant, fueled by love and the primal instinct to shield the one you cherished most from suffering.

As their focus shifted back to you, the tape sealing your lips felt like a cruel reminder of your helplessness. Despite the fear and pain that gripped you, you found solace in the unwavering trust you held for Kyle. In the depths of your soul, you knew he would do whatever it took to protect you.

As the men approached, their footsteps echoing ominously in the cramped confines of the room, you met Kyle's gaze with unspoken reassurance. You trusted Kyle implicitly, knowing that he would give them the answers they sought in order to spare you from any harm. Kyle had always placed your well-being above his own, never hesitating to shield you from danger or sacrifice his own safety for yours.

You knew he would do the same for you just as you did for him.

“Where is John Price?” Kyle remained resolute, his jaw clenched in a defiant line. He couldn't bring himself to betray the trust of his comrades, couldn't sell out Price and the others to save himself or even you.

Your heart sank as you witnessed Kyle's refusal to comply with the enemy's demands. Desperation clawed at you as you attempted to provide the answers they sought, but your efforts were futile, your words reduced to muffled noises by the tape sealing your lips. The realization that Kyle's silence was placing you in imminent danger filled you with a profound sense of horror.

With each passing moment, the torment inflicted upon you only heightened Kyle's anguish. The sight of their cruel hands leaving bruises on your skin, the sound of your muffled screams echoing in the room—each moment tore at Kyle's soul, filling him with a profound sense of helplessness and despair.

Every fiber of Kyle's being screamed for him to intervene, to put an end to your suffering, but he knew that yielding to their demands would mean betraying everything he stood for. He couldn't allow himself to falter, couldn't let down Price or the team, even if it meant sacrificing everything he held dear.

Kyle clung to the hope that the team would arrive in time to rescue you from this nightmare, to put an end to the agony and bring you both to safety. With each passing moment, he prayed silently for their arrival, willing them to come to your aid before it was too late.

With each brutal blow that rained down upon you, your world became a blur of agony and despair. Your vision swam, the relentless assault leaving you feeling as though your very essence was being torn apart. Despite the overwhelming pain and the sensation of your body betraying you, a flicker of strength remained within you, allowing you to cast a desperate gaze toward Kyle.

But to your dismay, Kyle's gaze remained averted, his attention fixed elsewhere as though he couldn't bear to witness the torment he unwittingly allowed to unfold. The realization pierced through the haze of agony, leaving you reeling with a profound sense of betrayal. How could the man you loved, the one you thought would always be there to protect you, turn away when you needed him most? In that moment of anguish and despair, the truth hit you like a sledgehammer.

Kyle's loyalty to the team outweighed his love for you.

The thought cut deep, shattering the illusions of security and affection you had once held dear. As the pain and betrayal consumed you, you couldn't help but wonder if the love you had believed in had ever truly existed.

“Dead already?”

As the echoes of their callous laughter reverberated through the room, Kyle's heart sank like a stone. Slowly, he raised his tear-streaked gaze, his eyes falling upon the devastating sight before him. There you were, slumped over in the chair, your once vibrant spirit extinguished, your form shrouded in a veil of crimson.

The weight of your lifeless presence hung heavy in the air, a chilling reminder of the irreversible consequences of his silence. Tears streamed down Kyle's face unabated, his hands trembling against the restraints that held him captive.

The unbearable burden of guilt pressed down upon him, suffocating him with the crushing weight of remorse. With each tear that fell, Kyle's anguish deepened, knowing that his refusal to speak had sealed your fate.

As the team finally arrived to rescue you both, Kyle's heart shattered into a million pieces. He fell to his knees before you, his hands trembling as he reached out to touch your bloodied skin.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry," he whispered, his voice choked. "I should have protected you. I should have never let this happen."

He begged for your forgiveness, his apologies a futile attempt to atone for his unforgivable failure. His words fell like broken fragments against the silence of the room, each apology a futile attempt to turn back time and undo the horror that had unfolded before his eyes.

Your lifeless form slouched in the chair, surrounded by a pool of crimson. Kyle's pleas for forgiveness fell upon deaf ears, his words lost in the suffocating silence that enveloped the room. The team watched in solemn silence, their hearts heavy with grief, as Kyle's agonized apologies echoed through the chamber.

In that moment, as he knelt there beside you, Kyle couldn't help but imagine a different scenario. He envisioned himself on his knees before you, a ring in his hand and a question on his lips, ready to pledge his love and devotion to you for all eternity.

But now, as he stared at your lifeless form, battered and broken, he realized that he would never get the chance to ask you to be his wife. The future they had once dreamed of together lay shattered at his feet, a casualty of the silent agony that had consumed him.

With each passing moment, the weight of his failure pressed down upon him, suffocating him with the knowledge that he had failed you when you needed him most.

As he continued to plead for forgiveness, his voice lost in the emptiness of the room, Kyle knew that he would carry the guilt of your death with him for the rest of his days, a haunting reminder of the love he had lost and the promises left unfulfilled.

162 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Note

simon x reader but theyre both in the military and reader gets assigned on a suicide mission but has a choice to go or not. reader and simon fight and then they decide to go. feel free not to do this no pressure!!! but if you will dont post the ask until after to make it a little angsty surprise!

JUST POSTED YOUR ASK I HOPE I WAS ABLE TO CAPTURE YOUR IDEA.

LINK IS HERE

#sinkovia anon asks #sinkovia #sinkovia anon

7 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

-`♡´- ANON ASK -`♡´-

Anon requested that the ask be posted after the fic.

Pairings: SImon Riley x GN!Reader

Warnings: Angst.

As the days passed by, your once perfect relationship with Simon began to fracture. It seemed as though the idyllic days you once shared were slipping away, replaced by a constant tension that hung heavy in the air.

The source of the arguments seems to stem from your "nagging," as Simon puts it. But to you, it's an expression of love and fear - a desperate attempt to hold onto something precious in a world where loss and danger lurk around every corner.

From the beginning, you both understood the risks in your line of work, but it's only recently that the reality of those risks has begun to weigh heavily on your heart.

You've voiced your fears to Simon, your desire to retire together and find solace in a life far removed from the dangers of combat. But each time you broach the subject, Simon's reaction is the same - cold, defensive, and laced with hurtful words that cut deep. It's a cycle that plays out time and time again: he pushes you away with his sharp words, only to come crawling back the next day, remorseful and apologetic.

In those moments of reconciliation, he speaks to you with tenderness and warmth, promising that he's always careful on missions and that this is the life he wants. He reassures you that perhaps, in a few years' time, he could think about settling down. And each time, you find yourself giving in, desperate to believe that his words hold truth.

But as the fear and dread of losing him creep back in, the same arguments resurface, and the cycle repeats itself endlessly, leaving you trapped in a loop of hope and despair.

The tension in your life reaches a boiling point when you're summoned to the briefing room, where Captain Price lays out the details of a harrowing mission. Your heart sinks as you realize the gravity of the task at hand - infiltrating the heart of Makarov's forces, your fluency in Russian making you the only person who could do it. It's a suicide mission, with slim chances of success and even slimmer chances of survival.

As Captain Price outlines the high-risk, high-reward nature of the operation, your mind races with conflicting emotions. On one hand, success could mean a significant blow to Makarov's forces, potentially saving countless lives and shifting the tide of the war. On the other hand, the thought of risking your life - and potentially throwing away any chance of a future with Simon - fills you with fear.

You weigh the options carefully, torn between duty and personal desire. The stakes couldn't be higher, and the choice before you feels like a cruel test of loyalty and sacrifice. As you leave the briefing room, the weight of the decision hangs heavy on your shoulders, uncertainty clouding your thoughts as you grapple with the choice before you.

You step into your shared apartment, the weight of the impending conversation heavy on your shoulders. Simon is seated on the couch, absorbed in the television. With a heavy sigh, you make your way over and take a seat next to him, steeling yourself for what's to come.

"We need to talk, Si,"

Simon sighs and reaches to turn off the TV, a resigned expression crossing his features. "Here we go again," he mutters under his breath.

Your heart sinks at his dismissive tone, but you push forward nonetheless. “Price gave me a solo mission,” you watch his reaction closely.

Simon quirks a brow but remains silent, prompting you to continue. “He wants me to infiltrate Makarov's forces,”

“Sounds risky,” Simon comments, his tone neutral as he leans back on the couch, crossing his arms. You take a deep breath, "It's a suicide mission," you confess, locking eyes with him, searching for any sign of understanding or concern.

Silence hangs in the air as you wait for his response, “When do you leave?” he asks, his response devoid of the emotion you had hoped for.

Does he even hear you? Does he even care?

“Did you hear what I said? It’s a suicide mission. Do you even care Simon?” you press, desperation creeping into your voice.

Simon releases a frustrated breath, irritation evident in his demeanor. “Of course, I fucking care, y/n. But like I've said a million times before, we chose this profession. We know the risks that come with our job. Any of our missions could easily turn into a suicide mission.”

Your heart sinks at his callous response, the weight of his words hitting you like a punch to the gut. “And if I died on a mission, would you be okay with that? With living without me? With going on with life without me?!” you challenge, tears welling in your eyes.

“Seeing how you're always fucking nagging me, yeah, maybe I’d be okay with that!” Simon's harsh words cut through you like a knife, leaving you reeling in disbelief.

Your lip quivers, and you shake your head, unable to comprehend the cruelty of his words. “You're being mean. You don’t mean that Si, I know you don’t,” you protest, your voice barely above a whisper.

“I do. I mean every fucking word,” Simon retorts, his voice rising in anger. “Do you know how easy it would be to find someone else who will give me what I want? I can never get peace when you're around. We are done, y/n. Don't bother coming home after your mission.”

The finality of his words crushes you, leaving you speechless and broken. With tears streaming down your face, you cover your mouth with your hand, muffling the sobs that threaten to escape. Simon turns on his heel and storms out of the apartment, leaving you alone in the wake of his harsh words.

With a heavy heart, you rise from the couch and make your way to your room, your mind consumed by the weight of the decision ahead. As you gather the necessities for the mission, a wave of despair washes over you.

If Simon wasn't in your life, what else did you have to live for? There had been multiple missions you had turned down in the past, knowing they were nothing but one-way trips. But now, without Simon by your side, there was nothing holding you back.

Stepping into Price’s office, you steel yourself for the conversation ahead. You inform him of your decision to go through with the mission, his surprise is evident, but he and Laswell offer words of encouragement, instilling in you a sense of hope. With your skills as an infiltrator and your Russian background, they assure you that you stand a fighting chance. After all, who would suspect one of their own?

Despite the uncertainty and the weight of the task ahead, a glimmer of hope begins to flicker within you. Within a matter of hours, you find yourself on a plane headed to Russia, the gravity of your decision weighing heavily on your mind. Simon however remains oblivious to your departure, unaware of the path you've chosen.

Back at home, he returns that night with your favorite takeout and a bouquet of flowers, his heart heavy with remorse and determination. With each step, he replays his apology in his head, rehearsing the words he's been meaning to say. He knows he's messed up, and he's desperate to make things right. He wants to change, to be a better man for you.

Simon's mind swirls with thoughts of seeking therapy, of learning to control his temper and his sharp tongue. He knows he's hurt you deeply with his words, words he never truly meant. He loves you more than anything, and he's willing to do whatever it takes to prove it. But as he steps into the house, the atmosphere is heavy with silence. The air feels cold and unwelcoming.

“Y/n?” He calls out for you, his voice tinged with concern, but there's no response.

Worry gnaws at him as he wanders through the darkened rooms, searching for any sign of you. Finally, he enters the bedroom, and his heart sinks as he sees a note lying on the bed, illuminated by the faint light filtering in through the window. With trembling hands, he picks up the note, his heart pounding in his chest as he reads your words.

Simon,

By the time you read this, I'll be on a plane to Russia. I've made the decision to go through with it, despite the risks, and I wanted you to know why.

I've heard your words echoing in my mind, the ones about finding someone else who will give you what you want, about never getting peace when I'm around. And so, I've decided to honor your wishes. Once I finish this mission, I'll find my own place, and you won't have to deal with my constant nagging anymore. Your life will finally be at peace, just as you've always wanted.

I want you to know that I've always turned down these types of missions in the past. This isn't the first time Price has offered them to me. But if I had known sooner that you didn't care whether I went on them or not, I would have gone sooner. I'm sorry for making your life so miserable, for not realizing sooner that I was the problem.

I hope that you find peace now, Simon. I hope that you find someone who can give you what you want, someone who can make you happy. You deserve that much, at least.

Take care of yourself.

Yours always, Y/n

With each word, his heart sinks deeper, the weight of your words bearing down on him with crushing force. Tears blur his vision as he reads your farewell, your words cutting through him like a knife. The realization of the pain he's caused you hits him like a tidal wave, leaving him gasping for air as guilt gnaws at his conscience.

When he reaches the part where you promise to honor his wish and stay out of his life after your mission, Simon's heart shatters into a million pieces. The thought of you willingly walking away from him, all because of his own hurtful words and actions, is almost too much to bear.

He crumples the letter in his trembling hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs as he struggles to come to terms with the magnitude of his mistakes. The weight of regret hangs heavy in the air as he realizes the depth of the love he's lost, the love he may never have the chance to regain if you don’t come back from the mission.

The suicide mission.

In that moment, he breaks down completely, the full weight of his actions crashing over him like a tidal wave. Seeing how much he's hurt you, how much he's pushed you away to point that you accepted the mission, shatters him to his core.

With each tear that falls, Simon's resolve crumbles, replaced by a deep and profound sense of regret. He wishes he could turn back time, take back the hurtful words he's spoken, and hold you close, promising to never let you go. But it's too late now, and all he can do is sit in silence, praying to a higher form to keep you safe, to let you come back to him alive.

The next day, Simon walked into Price’s office, his heart heavy with worry and anticipation. He needed to know more about your mission, to find any shred of information that could ease his growing anxiety.

Price informed Simon that you had landed in Russia in the early morning hours. However, he delivered the news that communication would be sparse for at least a month. They had scheduled calls planned for updates on the mission status, but they would have to wait until the designated time for you to radio in.

Simon listened intently, understanding the protocol, but inside, fear and dread gnawed at him. The thought of you out there, alone and potentially in danger, filled him with a sense of helplessness.

As the first month passed, Simon waited patiently in the room with Price, every passing minute feeling like an eternity. But as the hours stretched on, there was no sign of communication from you. No Morse code, no call, no comm. Just silence.

Panic began to set in as Simon grappled with the uncertainty of your situation. He couldn't shake the feeling of unease, the nagging worry that something had gone terribly wrong. But Price remained steadfast in his confidence, assuring Simon that these things happened often, that perhaps you hadn't found the right opportunity to relay a message.

Despite Price's reassurances, Simon couldn't shake the sense of foreboding that gripped him. With each passing day, his fear for your safety only grew stronger, overshadowing any hope he tried to hold onto. But he knew he had to stay strong, to keep faith that you would return safely from your mission.

Month after month passed, and still, there was no word from you. Simon waited patiently by the phone in the comms room center, his heart heavy with worry and uncertainty. He refused to give up on you, clinging to the hope that you would come back to him, despite Price declaring you M.I.A.

Even as Price tried to reason with him, pointing out that none of your mission objectives had been completed in the time you had been gone, Simon remained steadfast in his belief that you were still out there, somewhere, fighting to return to him.

Even as the years passed Simon couldn't bring himself to accept the possibility that you might truly be gone, vanished from his life and the world forever. The thought of living in a world without you was unbearable, and Simon couldn't bear to entertain it.

The last words he had spoken to you echoed in his mind, haunting him with their cruelty. How could he have been so callous, so blind to the pain he was causing you?

Was this fate's cruel work, forcing him to confront the consequences of his actions? Was this punishment for his harsh words, for pushing you away when he should have pulled you close? Was this what he truly wanted, to be left alone in a world without you?

But even in the depths of his despair, Simon clung to a sliver of hope, refusing to let go of the belief that you would come back to him. He would wait for you, for as long as it took, holding onto the hope that one day, you would return to him and his world would be whole again.

Anon Ask- simon x reader but they are both in the military and reader gets assigned on a suicide mission but has a choice to go or not. reader and simon fight and then they decide to go. feel free not to do this no pressure!!! but if you will dont post the ask until after to make it a little angsty surprise!

408 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

Black Market: V

Hitman Simon Riley x Doctor Fem!Reader

In desperate need of money to clear a million-dollar debt, you accept Simon's offer to become his personal doctor, earning twenty percent of each contract he completes. But as you plunge back into the black market, ghosts from your past emerge, threatening to unravel everything you've worked so hard to run away from.

Fluff, violence, mention of roofie, mention of sex trafficking.

Masterlist - Black Market Masterlist

You and Simon sit at the dining room table, a deck of cards between you. The soft glow of the overhead light casts shadows on the cards as you shuffle and deal. Simon frowns as he studies his hand, clearly not thrilled with his cards.

After a few rounds, you lay down your winning hand, a triumphant grin on your face. "Looks like that's four wins for me, Simon."

Simon eyes you suspiciously. "You've got to be cheating. There's no way you're winning this much by luck."

You laugh, gathering the cards. "Maybe you're just not as good at this game as you thought."

Simon rolls his eyes, his competitive streak showing. "I highly doubt that. You're probably just a cheater."

You lean back in your chair, smirking. "Well, if you want, I can teach you a thing or two about the game. But I don't think you have what it takes to beat me."

Simon scoffs, "We'll see about that."

The banter continued as you shuffled the cards for another round, Simon making snarky remarks the entire time you played. Despite the teasing, there was an underlying comfort in each other's company that had grown over time. You played your winning hand down again and Simon threw his cards on the table and leaned back shaking his head.

“Just admit you’re cheating love.”

You laughed and went on a rant about how he doesn't know how to play the right cards and the two of you started bickering again. You never realized how much you enjoyed having Simon around, his presence had become a source of comfort and joy in your life.

As you sit across from each other at the dinner table, the clinking of cutlery against plates fills the air. Simon's question catches you off guard, “Ever been to the Bahamas?" genuine curiosity in his voice.

You pause, swirling your fork through the food on your plate before responding. "No, I haven't really traveled much since... you know, everything happened."

Simon nods, understanding evident in his expression. "I'm not surprised,"

You take a deep breath, "I never wanted to risk getting seen. Traveling is the number one way people get sex trafficked, and I couldn't take that chance."

"Makes sense,"

After a moment of silence, Simon speaks up again, his tone thoughtful. "You know, since you have your own little personal bodyguard," he gestures towards himself with a small smirk, "maybe it's time for the two of us to take some much-needed vacation."

You raise an eyebrow, a hint of surprise crossing your features. "Vacation?"

Simon nods, "Yeah, why not? We both deserve a break from all this madness. And besides," he adds with a playful grin, "I promise to keep you safe."

You can't help but smile at his offer, feeling a warmth spread through you at the thought of spending time outside on the beach. "Where would we even go?"

Simon's smile widens as he leans back in his chair. "The Bahamas of course”

You lean back in the chair and think for a moment, "I don't even have any clothes for the Bahamas,"

"We can swing by your place and pick up whatever you need.” You hum and nod slowly, “Sounds like a plan then.”

The plane gently touched down on the runway, signaling the start of your much needed vacation. Soon enough, you found yourselves checked into your hotel room, ready to unwind after the flight. But as you stepped into the room and surveyed your surroundings, a frown creased your brow.

There was only one bed.

Turning to Simon, you raised an eyebrow in silent confusion. His muttered curse confirmed your suspicion. "Fucking hell, I asked for a double queen room," frustration evident in his voice.

While Simon dialed the reception you took the opportunity to explore the room. Opening the curtains, your eyes widened at the breathtaking view outside the window. The sight of pristine beaches and blue waters stretched out before you.

Moments later, Simon's exasperated tone broke the tranquil silence. "Bloody no good fuck," he muttered, hanging up the phone.

"They're fully booked, so they can't switch our room,"

You shrugged nonchalantly, trying to mask any disappointment. "That's okay," you replied, forcing a casual tone. "I don't mind sleeping on the couch."

Simon's response caught you off guard. "What couch?" he questioned, his brow furrowed in confusion. Glancing around the room, you realized he was right. There was no couch in sight, only a couple of single chairs scattered about.

With a resigned sigh, you turned back to Simon, a wry smile tugging at your lips. "Well, I guess we'll just have to get cozy in the bed then," you suggested with a hint of amusement. He quirked his brow, his lips in a tight unamused line.

“I'm joking Simon” you laugh and shake your head, “we will figure something out later, I want to go to the beach and get some drinks.

You opened your suitcase and grabbed your swimsuit and cover-up, eager to enjoy the day ahead. After changing in the restroom, you slipped on your sandals and stepped out, only to freeze at the sight of Simon, shirtless, standing in shorts with his back turned to you.

Your eyes immediately drifted to the tattoo adorning his back, a large Medusa inked with intricate detail, reminiscent of your own.

Turning to face you, Simon casually adjusts his sunglasses atop his head. "You ready?" he asks, his voice breaking the momentary silence.

"Yeah, just need to grab my bag," you reply, still slightly taken aback by the coincidence of your tattoos. You glance down and notice Simon wearing a fanny pack, a sight that surprises you. Unable to contain your amusement, you offer a playful smile, "I didn't peg you as the type to wear fanny packs."

Simon's response catches you off guard as he casually reaches into the fanny pack and pulls out a small silenced pistol. Your eyes widen in surprise. "Got to keep us safe," he says matter-of-factly, his expression serious yet nonchalant.

Together, you head towards the elevator. Just as the doors slide open, two girls enter. You instinctively step back, allowing them space. However, it's Simon they seem to notice, their eyes lingering on his bare chest and his inked arm. Their flirtatious demeanor doesn't escape your notice, and a twinge of irritation pricks at you.

They smiled coyly, tucking their hair behind their ears as they leaned in closer to him, but Simon remained unaffected, his gaze fixed straight ahead. Taking a deep breath, you clear your throat, drawing Simon's attention to you. "Getting sick?" he asks, his concern genuine.

"No, just thirsty,"

"The walk isn't too far,"

The girls continued to eye fuck him, their jealousy evident as they shot glances in your direction. As the elevator descended, one of the girls spoke up with a tone dripping with disgust, "Are you guys together?" Simon quirked an eyebrow, his gaze briefly flickering down to them before he replied bluntly, "Yes."

The chime of the elevator interrupted the moment as you reached the lobby floor. The girls scoffed and one of them rolled her eyes at you before they hastily exited the elevator. You furrowed your brows, as you turned to Simon, walking side by side with him.

“I think they were asking if we were a couple. They seemed interested in you,”

Simon quirked his brow as he looked down at you, “Interested in me? Thought they meant if we came together,” You couldn't help but laugh, shaking your head. “Do you not have many interactions with women?” you teased lightly.

“Only the ones I need to kill,” Simon replied, his gaze lingering on your smile for a few seconds before tearing them away to open the lobby door. You laughed again, appreciating his dry humor as he held the door open for you.

You both settled into the beach chairs, the sun casting a warm glow over the sand. With a relaxed sigh, you slip off your sheer covering, feeling the gentle breeze against your skin.

“You want me to grab us some food while you save our chairs?”

Simon nods, reaching into his pocket to retrieve his wallet. He hands you his black card “Just don't go too far,” his tone casual but with a hint of concern.

You return his smile reassuringly, pointing towards the small bar just a few feet away. “I won't be far,” you assure him, before turning to walk towards the bar. As you go, you notice his eyes following you, a silent watchfulness ensuring your safety. When your back is turned, his gaze lingers on your medusa tattoo, mirroring his own, etched across your skin with shared significance.

Something stirs within him as he watches you, a strange mixture of familiarity and connection tugging at his chest. His attention is abruptly diverted when a girl suddenly steps into his line of sight, obstructing his view of you as she settles into your vacant chair. He quickly looks past her, making sure you're still within sight, even though his gaze was only momentarily blocked.

You stand a few feet away, discreetly observing Simon engaged in conversation with another girl while you wait for your drink at the bar. As you watch them interact, a subtle tightness grips your chest, a feeling you can't quite place. Is it jealousy? No, it couldn't be, right? You remind yourself that you don't have any romantic feelings for him, at least not consciously.

Yet, despite your rationalization, you can't shake off the discomfort that settles within you. You find yourself analyzing every gesture, every smile she flashes at him, unable to ignore the nagging sensation in the pit of your stomach. You take a deep breath, trying to quell the unease that threatens to consume you.

Finally, your drink arrives, providing a welcomed distraction. You force a smile as you thank the bartender, but your attention is still drawn back to Simon and the girl. You silently berate yourself for feeling this way, for allowing something as trivial as a conversation to affect you so deeply. But deep down, you can't deny the undeniable pull of something stirring within you, something you're not quite ready to confront.

You dip your finger into your drink, watching intently as you wait to see if your nail polish changes color. It's a precaution you always take, ever since you started using a special nail polish that detects the presence of roofies in drinks. Being cautious of any drink you didn't prepare yourself has become second nature to you.

After downing your fruity drink, your sliders are ready, and you startle when you hear Simon's voice beside you. Looking up, you furrow your brows in confusion. "Thought you were saving the chairs?" you question.

Simon lets out a sigh and leans on the counter. "Some girl was yappin' my bloody ear off," he explains, annoyance evident in his tone. "She asked for my number, and I gave her Johnny’s. They'd be perfect for each other." You laugh and grab the sliders off the counter.

As you both walk back to your chairs and start eating the sliders, time seems to pass effortlessly. You engage in easy conversation, enjoying each other's company amidst the beautiful view and weather.

As the sun begins to set, you both take seats at the bar and order drinks. Simon observes as you dip your finger into your drink, prompting his curiosity. "Why’d you do that?" he asks.

"My nail polish checks for roofies. Want me to check yours?" you tease, offering to inspect his drink. Simon playfully pushes his drink towards you. "Contaminate my drink with your dirty fingers, love," he jokes, a smirk playing on his lips.

You stick your pinky into his cup, and both of you watch as the polish changes color. Your heart sinks as the realization sets in, and you exchange a worried glance with Simon.

Simon's gaze shifts to the bartender, who's watching him intently, as if waiting for Simon to take a sip of the drink. Without hesitation, Simon places a hand on the small of your back, swiftly pulling out his gun from his fanny pack and firing a silenced round directly at the bartender's crotch.

He screams out and simon ushers you away quickly, his hand still firmly on your back as you speed-walk back to the hotel. Once inside your room, you lock the door behind you, adding an extra safety lock you brought along. Simon moves around the room with his gun drawn, ensuring it's clear.

"Why the fuck was he trying to roofie you?" You demand, your voice laced with anger an fear as you close the curtains ensuring your safety.

"To have easier access to you," he replies after taking a breath and your heart sinks knowing the weight of your past catching up to you.

"You think it's the contract?" you ask, your voice trembling with uncertainty. Simon nods solemnly, his expression mirroring your concern. Feeling overwhelmed, you sit down on the edge of the bed, tears welling up in your eyes. Fear grips your heart, weighing heavily on your shoulders as you curse softly under your breath.

Simon approaches you slowly, his first time witnessing you in such a vulnerable state. As he sits beside you on the bed, his eyes soften with empathy, taking in your tear-streaked face. You look up at him, feeling a mixture of despair and desperation, and you sniffle softly.

“I can’t go back there, Simon. I can't go back to those people, I can’t go back to him,” you admit, your voice trembling with fear and anguish. Seeing you in distress tugs at something deep within him, a desire to protect and reassure you.

Simon instinctively grabs his jacket and wraps it around you, offering what little comfort he can. As tears stream down your cheeks, Simon watches helplessly, unsure of how to comfort you. He places a gentle hand on your shoulder, silently conveying his support.

“I promise, Y/n, you’re safe. As long as you are with me, they won’t get to you,” Simon reassures you, his voice firm but gentle. But you shake your head, unable to shake off the fear that grips you.

"They already targeted you once. If I hadn't checked your drink, they would have had both of us. Who knows what they would have done to you..." Your voice falters as Simon cuts you off by wrapping his arms around you in a warm embrace.

You initially resist, feeling conflicted and overwhelmed, but as his arms envelop you, a sense of safety washes over you. “Just trust me, Y/n,” he murmurs softly, his words a gentle plea for you to find solace in his presence.

Your protests die on your lips as you lean into his embrace, allowing yourself to be held by him. In that moment, surrounded by his comforting presence, you find solace in the warmth of his embrace, feeling protected and cared for despite the turmoil swirling around you.

After a few moments, you gently wipe your wet eyes with the sleeve of Simon's jacket, the comforting scent of his cologne enveloping you. Gathering yourself, you stand up and make your way to the bathroom, exchanging your swimsuit for pajamas. You wrap Simon's jacket around you once more, finding solace in its warmth as you lie down on the bed.

“I’m going to stay up and watch the door, just in case they have something planned. At least one of us will catch it. I’ll look for the earliest flight we can take back home,” Simon informs you, his voice laced with determination.

You nod in understanding, feeling a sense of relief knowing that he's taking proactive measures to keep you both safe. With a heavy sigh, you rest your head on the pillow, exhaustion weighing heavily on you as sleep quickly overtakes you.

As Simon searches for flights on his laptop, his gaze occasionally drifts up to your sleeping form. He watches as your body rises and falls with each gentle breath, your features softened in the glow of the room. His eyes linger on your slightly puffy eyes from earlier.

He can't help but question his own actions, his unexpected urge to comfort you. Physical touch has always been something he avoided, a boundary he rarely allowed others to cross, even hating when Johnny would pat him on the back. Yet, in that vulnerable moment, he found himself reaching out to you without a second thought. Was it because you were crying? Because he wanted to offer you solace?

The internal conflict rages within him as he wrestles with his emotions. After all, you were just his doctor, someone he needed to keep safe for his own benefit. But as he watches you sleep, a flicker of something unfamiliar stirs within him, a growing awareness that perhaps his feelings towards you run deeper than he cares to admit.

Black market tag list: @shinchanboi @talooolaaloolla @lieutenantlashfaz @neothewitch @birdienotting @jupiternighties @samiiii333 @silverianni @elowynnlane @lotionlamp @ssc7514 @iloveloveeducks @rejectedbytheempty @whos-fran @sillyfrann @aykiraa @strawberrygato @yyiikes

Comment, DM, or send in an ask if you want to be added or removed from the list <3

169 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

THESE ARE SO FUN TO DO PLS

1. Animal ~ Cat

2. Place ~ Forest

3. Plant ~ Landini Asiatic Lily

4. Character ~ Suguru Geto

5. Season ~ Winter

6. Hobby ~ Writing

7. Color ~ Black

8. Crystal ~ Black tourmaline

9. Food ~ Mash potatoes

No pressure tags 🤍 ~ @connorsui @talooolaaloolla @tomiesdiet @aragmoth

my zesty friend @zzzzzestforlife tagged me in this here game:

use this order and insert images according to how you view yourself!

1. Animal- rabbit

2. Place- bookstore

3. Plant- lily of the valley

4. Character-Circe

5. Season- autumn

6. Hobby- reading

7. Colour- yellow

8. Crystal- citrine

9. Food- sushi

and now I tag all of y'all reading this, but especially @studentbyday @barrilete02 @medstudentblues @medstudiees @eduurun @scourgebrother

#sinkovia #Sinkovia games #moots <3 #i love my moots

132 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

THANK YOU FOR THE TAG!! @connorsui I love creating avatars of myself in games so this was so much fun to do 🤍

No pressure tags 🤍 ~ @talooolaaloolla @tomiesdiet @aragmoth (I have like three mutuals 😔)

Starting new picrew bc I find this one super cute and pretty so lets go! LINK

No pressure tag @wyvernslovecake @bby-deerling @nina-ya @ringdabel @im-stuck-in-fandom-hell and everyone who wants to join! 💛

#sinkovia #Sinkovia games #i love my moots #moots <3

898 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

♡ ︎Coffee shop imagines ♡

Coffee shop Masterlist

Simon Riley’s Instagram feed. I just know he would post so many pics of Missy and Riley and ofc pictures he secretly takes of you.

I feel like the only reason he got social media in the first place was so he could follow Gordon Ramsey and when you showed him the pictures you would post of the two of you together he started doing it so you wouldn’t feel like the affection was one sided.

Simon didn’t understand the concept of posting but after a month of posting you, missy and Riley it was all he ever did. He post random pictures of you working in your garden, you cooking or reading books, anytime you made him tea he would take a picture of each cup.

When Riley or missy were doing anything he would always snap a quick pic and show you because he knew how much you loved taking pictures of them.

And this man has a max of 4 followers including you, himself, and the boys. And the only people to like his photos are of course only you, Kyle, and Johnny.

222 notes · View notes

sinkovia · 1 month

Text

Nsfw, smut, 18+

Konig x Fem!Reader

Masterlist

From the moment you joined Kortac, there was an unmistakable tension between you and Konig. It was as if the two of you were oil and water, never mixing, always repelling. You had a habit of picking fights with him, trying to one-up each other at every turn. You couldn't quite put your finger on it, but you were convinced that he was jealous of you, specifically because you were a sniper.

You both stood on the training ground, watching your teammates spar with one another, Konig muttered something under his breath that caught your attention. "I could pin you in less than 30 seconds," he said, just loud enough for you to hear.

You scoffed and turned to face him, your gaze locked onto his. "Why don't we test it then?"

Konig, a towering figure compared to your own stature, looked down at you. He scoffed as he extended his arm out towards the mat, silently inviting you to step onto it, ready to settle the score once and for all.

The tension in the air was thick as you and Konig engaged in your sparring match. He had issued the challenge, claiming he could pin you in less than 30 seconds, but you weren't about to let him prove that point without a fight.

Your movements were quick and agile, easily evading his attempts to take you down. With every dodge and counter, you managed to stay one step ahead of him. You could see the frustration growing in his eyes as he struggled to get a grip on you.

"What happened? I thought you were going to take me down in less than 30 seconds?" you taunted, your voice laced with a mischievous edge.

In a sudden burst of strength and determination, Konig managed to grab you by the waist, with a powerful move, he threw you down onto the mat, and in an instant, he was on top of you, pinning you beneath his weight.

Both of you were breathing heavily, the intensity of the spar taking its toll. König held your arms down, and you were doing your best to catch your breath, feeling the weight of the situation. A mischievous grin tugged at the corners of your lips as you gazed up at Konig, your eyes twinkling with a hint of amusement.

"Do you always get this hard when you pin your teammates down, or am I just special?" you quipped, your tone playfully suggestive.

Konig's confusion transformed into a mix of surprise and shock, his expression momentarily caught off guard by your unexpected response. He quickly looked down between his legs, his hard length was pressed against your inner thigh.

His eyes grew wide and he quickly got off of you and left the sparing room without saying a word to you. You got up and made your way to your room, you passed by konigs door. Your captain had the liberty of putting you in rooms next to each other thinking it would help you get along.

You lock the door behind you and you lay down on your bed, you couldn't ignore the heat that was pooling between your legs. Your body shuttered as it remembered the way his length pressed against you, he was big. You curse under your breath as you begin to undo your cargo pants. Your fingers moving through your folds, you lean your head back against your pillows as you rub small circles on your clit.

Konig sat against his bed, his breaths coming out airy as his hands moved up and down his shaft, he let out soft curses as his hand moved. His mind couldnt escape the thought of you pined beneath him, your eyes looking up at him. He closed his eyes as he pictured you bouncing on his dick, moaning his name.

You quicken your pace, rubbing small circles continuously over your aching clit. You close your eyes and shove two fingers inside you, imagining it was konig thrusting himself inside. You moan out his name.

Konig froze as he faintly heard your voice, he could have sworn you said his name. His mind was playing tricks on him. His hand began moving when he heard you again, this time louder. He couldn't mistake it this time, you groaned out his name. He scooted closer to the wall putting his ear against the wall.

He heard your muffled moans, profanities escaping your lips. He heard his name roll off your tongue, he loved how breathy and needy you sounded. His tip leaked with precum as he listened to you pleasure yourself, wishing it was him. He smiled to himself as he pulled his cargos back up and made his way toward your room.

You heard a knock on your door and you groaned out, "Who is it?" you were met with silence and you cursed under your breath, pulling your cargos back up. You walked up to the door and opened it, Konig pushed himself in. His hand pressing over your mouth as he quickly spun you and pinned you against the door.

With his free hand, he reached over and slowly locked the door, his eyes never leaving yours. Your wide eyes stared up at him, they grew even wider as he took your hand and brought it up under his veil. You tried to pull your hand away but he was stronger. You felt his tongue dance around your fingers, your slick still covered them. The heat between your legs began to pool again as you felt him clean your fingers. He leaned down so his mouth was directly against your ear.

"The walls are very thin."

In one swift movement, he carried you over to the bed and threw you on it. You guys wasted no time in getting undressed. He rested your legs on his shoulders as his tongue danced across your folds, you moaned out, the contact sending chills throughout your body. His mouth found comfort in your dripping hole, slurping all your sweet juices, before sliding the thick muscle of his tongue in.

His hand moved from your thighs to your heat, letting two fingers abuse your tender clit. Your knuckles were turning white from the tight grip you had on the sheets. His tongue was exploring the wet walls of your cunt, and his eyes stared up at you watching every reaction he was eliciting from you. The way your brows furrowed, the way you squirmed under his touch.

"F-Fuck Konig" you moaned. You felt every curve of his fingers as he stroked in and out of you.

He whined as he heard you moan his name. The vibrations on your clit sent shockwaves through your core as your walls tightened around his fingers. Your legs shook as his digits stretched you out more than your own fingers ever could. His arousal was beginning to hurt, he felt himself getting harder by the second. If that was even possible.

He quickly flips you over so you're lying on your stomach, he reaches his hand under you and lifts your ass up. His tip was running along your folds, lubing his cock with your slick. He pressed against your back forcing your chest closer to the bed and pushing your ass higher in the air. Without warning, he thrusts his entire length into your achy needy cunt. He felt your walls pulse around him and he threw his head back.

"Ah fuck Y/n"

Your wetness provided him all he needed to stretch you out. You gasped feeling how deep he was penetrating you. He groaned out profanities in German as he bottomed out. Slowly sliding out and thrusting inside you quicker than before. You let out a string of curses as you move your hips back against him, causing him to push against your soft gummy cervix.

He picked up his pace, fucking you into the bed at an ungodly pace. You were a moaning mess, the pillow catching each one. Konig grabbed a fist full of your hair and pulled your head back, he wanted to hear you. He wanted to relish every sound that left your lips.

He wrapped his hand around your neck as he lowered his chest against your back. He fucked you quick, his breath fanned against your ear and you felt your coil begin to tighten.

"Konig please, I'm so close." You cried out and it nearly sent konig over the edge, how needy you sounded for him. He let go of your hair and his hands went to your waist, the grip he had on you was surely going to bruise. He drove himself into you at a maddening pace, his cock ramming into you over and over again. He could feel your walls fluttering as you were nearing your climax and carrying him along with it.

"Scheiße i'm gonna cum."

You felt his dick pulsating against your walls, this was enough to trigger your own orgasm. Tears fell from the corners of your eyes, the intense waves of maddening pleasure completely overwhelming you.

The feeling of you pulsating around his cock threw Konig over the edge, with one last deep thrust, he went over the edge. His hips slowly rocking against you, milking every ounce of cum into you. He slumped down next to you, his breathing matching your labored ones.

"If I knew how good you were in bed I would have asked captain to move our rooms together sooner." Konig moves his head to the side so he was looking at you.

"You asked captain to move our rooms?" You smile and nod your head.

"How long have you been touching yourself wishing it was me?" You let out a small laugh, turning to the side to face him.

"Since I joined."

Konigs laugh echoed throughout the room.

"Me too."